


The Way Home

by Mainstream_Deviant



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: (and sometimes failing), Citronshipping, Falling in love is hard, Fluff, Irresponsible Use of Magic, M/M, Magic, Other, Rated E to be safe but it’s mostly more like T, Ryou what did you DO, Thiefshipping, and some angst, but it’s the thought that counts right?, but they’re trying, does this count as Slow Burn?, especially for these two, i dunno you tell me - Freeform, post cannon, some NSFW in later chapters, the author has no regrets, yes it’s another magically-infused get-together fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-08-19 23:24:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mainstream_Deviant/pseuds/Mainstream_Deviant
Summary: The day was supposed to start with a latte and end at a spa. Instead, it started with an unexpected phone call and ended with having to babysit a grumpy, demanding white-haired spirit.Bakura is unexpectedly shoved back into Marik's life by a wayward spell, and they get to work on finding a way to finally send Bakura to a proper rest. Because clearly, they need to get out of each other’s lives for good, before they drive each other even crazier. And that’s what they want most. Obviously.......right?





	1. Prologue: In which an ill-advised spell is cast

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the Alchemy of Thiefshipping project. :D The story is complete and will be posted a chapter or two a week, depending on chapter length.  
>   
> A huge shout-out and thank you to [ CardiacCrisis ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CardiacCrisis/) for helping beta this whole thing with not much time to spare. You rock! \o/

Ryou stared around his living room in satisfaction. This should work. Probably. He eyed the chalk marks critically, and squinted at the positioning of the candles. Yes, this should work.   

Realistically, he knew there was no way to be sure he could contact the ring spirit again. Or whether Bakura would be a proper spirit or just a wisp of leftover Egyptian magic at this point, for that matter. But he hadn’t let that stop him from finding a spell that should – at least in theory – let him check up on the thief. After all, the whole memory world… thing… had been such a confusing mess that he’d been left with more questions than when he started, and that just wouldn’t do. He’d put far too much time and energy into figuring out the Millennium Items to just let it end there. A few weeks and a handful of questionable online purchases later here he stood, ready to summon up the spirit for a chat.    

Ryou ran his fingers along the pendant he’d purchased for the ritual. He’d considered just using a Ouija board or something, but he wanted to be _sure_ he had found the right person, or whatever might be left of him. The pendant was supposed to let them speak more directly, like they had with the Ring, only without the whole ordeal of being possessed at the time. That would be a nice change, all things considered. He’d become fond of having a body all to himself.  

He’d thought about calling Marik up to join in on this little adventure of his, but it had seemed a little out of place, somehow. True, after the ceremonial duel they’d bonded over their experiences with the spirit of the ring, but Marik had seemed strangely eager to leave that past firmly behind them. Ryou couldn’t understand why he was content to leave so much unanswered. The ring had been _fascinating._   

Maybe if this worked well, he’d give Marik a call and cast the spell again for him later. He had a feeling there had been more to Marik’s time with the spirit than he let on, but he could never quite put his finger on it. Another mystery to be solved, he supposed.   

He took a deep breath as he hung the pendant in the middle of the circle and got ready to cast the spell. Here goes nothing.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins. I welcome and adore any and all kudos's and comments you care to leave, from one emoji or 3-letter keysmash, to a ten paragraph annotated essay of all your likes and dislikes, whether you find this 5 minutes or 5 years after I post it. Bring it on! ;) I love all reviews, and reply to all of them if I can (unless you make a note that you'd rather I didn't, in which case I will flail quietly to myself).  
>   
> You can also find me on [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/) if you want to say 'hi'.


	2. In which Marik’s perfectly good day is ruined by a white-haired nuisance

Marik stretched out his back as he enjoyed the morning sun on his skin. It had been one hell of a long, boring week and he was glad it was over. He loved his sister, really he did, but helping her push papers around for the museum’s new exhibit was not exactly his idea of a good time. Sometimes, being a functional member of society sucked. After a week like this, there were even moments when he kind of missed the madness of the shadow games. At least there had been some excitement in that.   

He padded out of his room and was promptly greeted by a purring mass of grey fur at his ankles. He reached down to give Tou a firm scratch behind the ears.  

“Good morning, sweet boy. Are you ready to have a nice lazy day? ‘Cause I sure am.” He leant down and scooped the cat to his chest, and the volume of the purring went up a few notches. “Let’s get you fed while you’re still happy to see me, hmm? I know your game, you brat.”  

Marik carted them both into the kitchen, where Tou was as enthusiastic as always to get a full bowl of food. Unfortunately for Marik, the fridge didn’t offer any inspiring options for him. Maybe just some caffeine then. He stared at the coffee maker and wrinkled his nose. He was in the mood for something nicer - he’d earned it.   

He gave Tou one last good scratch on his way out to his bike. It had been a while since he visited his favourite little café. This seemed like as good a day as any to treat himself. He mounted the bike and revved the engine before taking off, delighting in the loud rumble that always reminded him of freedom. Maybe he’d go for a nice long ride later; it’d been a while since he went up the coast. But first, there was coffee to get. He parked and grabbed a nice latte and a breakfast roll to go. The café was a decent spot to sit and enjoy a meal out, but he was in the mood to settle right down on the couch and ignore the world for a few hours.   

He got home, and with a nice warm latte and a lap full of cat, it looked like his morning plans were going to go off without a hitch. He was just about to take another sip when his phone leapt to life. He eyed it suspiciously. Isis was the only one who ever called him this early, and whatever it was he didn’t want to deal with it. His latte was only half finished. He’d been planning to check for a last-minute appointment at his favourite spa. This was going to be _his_ day. Ugh.   

With a rather disgusted huff he grabbed the phone on its third ring, but paused when he saw “Ryou Bakura” splayed across the screen. It had been a while since they’d spoken outside of work, and he felt a little guilty at how much the name surprised him. For a long time after the pharaoh’s departure he’d considered Ryou a good friend, but Ryou’s ongoing fascination with the memory of the ring spirit had become grating over time. Dredging up that bit of past was too fraught with emotions for Marik’s taste, and he’d found himself avoiding Ryou more and more to dodge the topic.  Now, he wasn’t even entirely sure of when they’d last gotten together just for the fun of it.

He shook his head to clear it when the phone belligerently rang again, and swiped to answer.  

“…..hello?” part of Marik wasn’t even sure if he expected a real answer, but it was undoubtedly Ryou’s voice that poured through the speaker. It sounded a bit breathy and excitable, which was….odd.  

“Oh! You answered! I wasn’t sure if you would, you know, since I know this must seem a bit out of the blue. Am I bothering you? My, I hope not, but I rather need your help with something.”  

“…..you need what?” Marik was reminded rather forcibly about Ryou’s tendency to just leap into a situation and expect everyone else to catch up.   

“Your help with something, if it’s not too much trouble.” There was a brief pause and the sound of something clattering to the ground in the background. “Or maybe even if it is.”  

“Ryou, what’s going on? I’m not working today. Whatever it is, I’m sure you can just call the museum and get Isis to help.”  

“Oh, no no, this doesn’t have anything to do with the museum, I wouldn’t call you directly for that. I’ve been working on a… um…a personal project of sorts and it’s gotten a little… well …..a little complicated, I guess you could say? I could really use your help with this, it’s quite important. I’m sure you’ll find it simply fascinating!” Ryou’s voice took on an excited edge.   

“Ryou…. what did you do?” Marik had a bad feeling about this.   

“Oh, nothing to worry about I’m sure, but can you come over for a bit? Preferably right away?”  

“You didn’t manage to reopen the shadow realm or something, did you?”  

“Well, no. Not really.”  

Marik startled. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?!”  

“Oh, you’ll see when you get here. It’s really quite fascinating, I promise! Please come.”  

Marik set down the last of his latte with just a hint of mourning and reached out to grab his leather jacket off the back of the chair. “Ok, I’m coming over now. But this better not be some kind of new disaster I need to help clean up.” 

* * *

 

Marik got to Ryou’s apartment faster than he probably should have. Even though Ryou hadn’t sounded all that worried on the phone, the whole way over Marik had been having visions of purple and black shadows swirling their way out of Ryou’s door when he arrived. But when he got there, he found himself knocking on a perfectly normal-looking apartment door. He only had to wait a second for the door to swing open, and was greeted with the sight of a beaming Ryou Bakura.   

“Marik! You got here so quickly! Please, come in. Do you want any tea or coffee or anything?”  

Marik had a feeling confusion was going to be the theme of his whole weekend at this rate. “Ryou, you said you needed help.”  

Ryou gave Marik a sunny grin. “Well yes, but you can still have tea if you want, it’s not like he’s going anywhere.”   

“Who else did you call?”  

“Oh, just you. You really seemed like the only person who might actually be willing to help with this.”  

Marik had been wrong about the confusion. A creeping sense of foreboding was working his way up his spine instead.  “Ryou.” He took a steadying breath. “What’s going on?”  

Ryou’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he picked it back up. “Well, you see….” He didn’t get any further before a loud clattering noise rang out from further inside, and he turned to look back with a fierce scowl. “So _help_ me Bakura, if that was another one of my figurines I will stick you in the freezer, see if I won’t.”  

Ryou turned back, and smiled sheepishly at Marik’s stunned expression as he held up a small golden ankh inlaid with a dark red stone. “It’s only a little bit my fault, I _promise_.”  

* * *

 

Marik couldn’t take his eyes off the little golden ankh in Ryou’s grip. He hadn’t quite convinced himself he believed what he was hearing yet, but then again he’d lived through far stranger things. He leaned further back into the couch cushions with a weary sigh, trying to ignore the confusing swirl of thoughts and emotions crashing around his head.   

“So, you tried to FaceTime the shadow realm, because apparently you didn’t get enough of that the first time around. And now you’ve managed to get the ring spirit permanently anchored to that necklace somehow.”  

“That’s essentially it, yes.”  

“But _why._ ”  

Ryou tucked his legs up underneath him, looking for all the world like he was getting ready for a good gossip session rather than discussing forbidden magic rituals. “Well, you know why, really. We never really got to find out what happened to him, did we? I lived with him for _ages_ and never got any answers. We got to see the pharaoh off and all, but I always kind of wondered what happened to the spirit in the ring. I just wanted to find out if he was even out there, or if he went with Atem in the end, or what. I know you weren’t keen on trying to find out what happened to the rest of it, but I just couldn’t let it go, you know? The spell was only supposed to let me ask a few questions and make sure he was okay. I didn’t expect him to leech on to this permanently, but it turns out he was stuck in a sort of shadowy limbo otherwise, so now he won’t leave.”  

“And how the hell do you think I’m supposed to help with this??”  

“Well, I don’t know a lot about Egyptian spells specifically, and you two have worked together before too, so….” Ryou shrugged a little helplessly. “I really didn’t know who else to call. He didn’t make many friends the last time he was here.”  

“And are you really sure it’s him?”  

“Quite sure, yes.”  

“How do you know?”  

Ryou quirked his mouth in a half-grin and held the pendant out for Marik to take. After a moment’s hesitation, Marik reached out to hold the it, and the moment his fingers touched the gold his head was filled with the end of an angry rant.   

“ _…ost, if you hand him that pendant I’m going to knock every single one of your figurines over, don’t you fucking DARE pass me off or yo-……”_ The rant cut off abruptly, and the tone switched from furious to a familiar flavour of ‘cocky asshole’ in an instant. “ _Hello, Ishtar._ ”  

Marik dropped the pendant like it had burned him. “Holy SHIT.”  

Ryou’s bright grin had come back as he watched Marik’s nonplussed expression. “See? There’s no mistaking him. He’s as polite as ever, isn’t he?” He paused for a moment and then carried on when it was clear Marik was at a loss for words. “He’s mostly ranted at me so far, and I didn’t really have much of a plan beyond checking in on him, so I was hoping you’d be able to help figure out what he wants. He was always weirdly nice to you, after all.”  

Marik shook his head to try to clear the buzzing in his skull. “He didn’t sound very eager to see to me either, Ryou.”  

“Oh, well yes, I suppose. But I think that’s just because he thinks you’re on Atem’s side or something? He hasn’t been all that coherent, really.” Ryou leaned forward conspiratorially. “I think he’s spent a little too long in the shadow realm, if you know what I me-…..oh shut _up_ Bakura, yes you _are_.” Ryou shot Marik a long-suffering sort of look. “He insists he’s quite sane and that his ranting is perfectly reasonable.” Ryou rolled his eyes expansively as he said this. “Well _fine_ then, prove it yourself, you….” Ryou shoved the ankh at Marik with a huff. “I so did not sign up to babysit him again. You see if you can get him to make sense.”  

Marik wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to take hold of the pendant again, but he couldn’t come up with a way to refuse Ryou’s insistent look, so he gingerly reached out to hold it. This time, he was greeted with silence. He glanced up from the pendant to Ryou.   

“I think we scared him off.”  

Ryou scoffed. “Don’t get your hopes up, he’s a bloody cockroach.” He leaned forward and gave the pendant a sharp poke. It remained petulantly silent. Marik glanced up at Ryou again.  

“I didn’t sign up to babysit any more wayward spirits either, you know.”  

“ _I don’t need a Ra-damned babysitter, Ishtar._ ”  

Marik glanced up from the necklace and raised an eyebrow at Ryou, who shook his head. “I can’t hear him when you’re holding it. I guess it’s a one-way call.” Ryou gave a bright grin. “But now that he’s talking again, I’ll just go make us both a pot of tea, shall I?” And with that, he hopped off the couch and bolted from the room, leaving Marik to talk to a small chunk of metal. Marik sighed and caved to the inevitable.   

“Then what am I supposed to do with you, spirit? Or should I still call you Bakura? Or Thief?”  

“ _Call me whatever the hell you want, tombkee-”_   

“I am NOT a tombkeeper anymore.”  

The spirit scoffed.   

“What do you want, Bakura? Are you planning to possess Ryou again?”  

“ _Already tried. Didn’t work. Besides, I don’t see any point trying to take over a new vessel in this state._ ”  

“Good. I don’t think unleashing you on the world again is a great idea.”   

Bakura scoffed again. “ _Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’m done with the world domination plans. You saw how well that worked out last time when your precious pharaoh won out in the end._ ”   

“I told you, I’m not a tombkeeper anymore. He’s not my pharaoh, if he ever really was.”  

“ _Sure sure._ ”  

“What are you planning? You must be planning something. Why else would you stick around?”  

“ _Zorc is long gone, there’s hardly any point in planning some grand scheme even if I still wanted it_. _And I refuse to go back to the shadows. Isn’t that reason enough to stay?_ ” The spirit’s voice sounded almost weary.   

“Do you expect us to find you a body of your own or something? You want to grow up to be a real boy?” Marik smirked at the necklace, even though he didn’t know if Bakura could see him.  

“ _I don’t want to walk around in some wooden monstrosity, you idiot.”_   

“And I don’t want you living in my head forever. I’ve done my time with that. So has Ryou.”   

“ _Well hopefully I won’t be living in your head for long, then._ ”  

“And where would you go?”  

“ _Away.”_   

“….. ‘away’. Away to where, with your not-body and not-plans?”  

The spirit growled. “ _AWAY, Ishtar. Just……away.”_   

“Your plans are as spectacularly useless as ever, you know that?” Marik imagined he could feel the metal heating up with the spirit’s anger, and he couldn’t help but grin. Bakura had always been good for a fight.   

“ _Shut the fuck up, you petulant brat. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”_   

“Apparently, neither do you.” Marik was pretty sure the necklace would be vibrating with rage at this point if it could.  

“ _I know exactly what I’m doing here. I’ve always got a plan!”_   

Marik gave a dubious ‘mhmm’ and grinned to himself as he waited for the spirit to snap. He didn’t have to wait long before the spirit let out a wordless, frustrated yell.  

“ _I want to go HOME. Just home. Zorc is gone. The games are over. My people are lost, and will never have their justice. There’s nothing more I can do but see if they’re…I just want to go home to them_.” By the end of his rant, Bakura’s voice had trailed off almost down to a whisper.    

Marik blinked and sat back in the cushions. Of all the things he thought he’d hear, that was at the bottom of the list. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply before replying.   

“…..ok.” He didn’t get an answer.   

Ryou poked his head around the corner, a mug in each hand, trying very hard to look like he hadn’t been waiting for something that sounded like the end of the one-sided conversation. “Have you figured it out, then?”  

Marik gave him a weary grin. “Yeah.”  

Ryou handed him a mug as Marik set the little ankh on the table in front of them. “Apparently he just wants to go home.”  

“To Egypt?”  

“No, to his family.”  

Ryou blinked. “That’s actually kind of…. sweet.”  

“I have no idea how to help with that, though.”  

“Neither do I. You probably know more about it than I do though, with your family and all.”  

Marik sighed and shook his head. “I wasn’t the greatest student for anything that didn’t involve getting the pharaoh out of my way.”  

“Still though! You’d probably have more luck with it than me. And apparently he’s willing to talk with you. I just knew he would be!” Ryou turned his best, widest puppy eyes on Marik. “So, you’ll take him, right? You’ll probably have so much more luck keeping him under control and finding good leads than me.” Ryou paused for Marik to comment for all of about half a second, before plunging forward with a too-sweet grin. “Oh good, that sounds like a plan. I’ll see what I can find here on my own, but it just makes so much more sense for you to hold on to him this time.”  

Marik opened his mouth to object, but Ryou was already happily handing him the little golden ankh. “Here you go. We’ll be in touch, I’m sure. I’ve really got to get ready for work now though, so we’ll talk more later.” Marik found himself being shuffled toward the door before he could object further. “Good luck! He shouldn’t be too much trouble. You can always stick him in the freezer again if he gets too annoying.” And with that, Ryou gently but insistently closed the door on the spirit’s angry sputtering and Marik’s unvoiced objection. Marik held up the ankh, watching the little red stone glint in the morning sunlight.   

“Well shit.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/), for those who don't want to comment here for some reason. ;)


	3. In which babysitting a trapped spirit is harder than you'd think

Marik shoved Bakura’s ankh into the saddlebag of his bike so he could have a chance to clear his head on the ride home. If Bakura didn’t like it, he could kiss his ass.   

This was not how his day was supposed to go. This wasn’t even close to how his day was supposed to go. He didn’t even know where to start. The part of his life where he dealt with ancient Egyptian magic and spells and the shadow realm was supposed to be thoroughly over. Had he not given enough of his life to this bullshit already? After all that had happened during Battle City, and everything that had happened after, he’d done his best to flush the whole thing from his memory and start over. Now it was all coming back in a great rush and he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about it.    

Butting heads with the ring’s spirit again, even briefly, had been… Marik sighed deeply as he parked the bike, and ran an agitated hand through his hair once he got his helmet off. If he was honest with himself, it had been fun, but he didn’t want to deal with what that implied.   

His partnership with Bakura, if you can call it that, had been brief but intense. He’d felt so recklessly alive and invincible as they plotted their revenges together. Once it all was said and done though, he’d worked hard to convince himself that finding joy in arguments and petty plots was behind him. That the heady rush of feelings from that tournament was just reckless misspent youth, and nothing more than that. He’d even managed to convince himself that his brief crush on Ryou shortly afterward had nothing whatsoever to do with his resemblance to the spirit in Battle City, because he was definitely beyond all that.  

And yet… And yet turning the spirit into a snarling pissed-off mess was the most fun he’d had in ages. And he kind of missed that.    

Marik sighed again. Sighing didn’t help. He grabbed the bag off his bike to head inside. Like it or not, this was apparently his life now. He’d just have to close his eyes and power through it. He was good at shoving unwanted emotions out of the way if he had to.  

He dumped the bag on the kitchen counter, and was about to start unpacking it when he spotted the cup from his half-finished latte tipped over on the floor. The floor, of course, was spotless.   

“Tou, I’m going to kill you if you puked on my carpet again.” That damn cat had a love of things he really shouldn’t eat. Marik knew better than to leave anything edible out, but he hadn’t been thinking this morning as he rushed out the door. “Tou! Where are you?”  

Marik watched as a little whiskered face peered around the doorway and squinted at him. An ear flicked.   

“Don’t give me that look, you obviously fed yourself.” He watched the cat try to make a haughty sort of entrance, before he abruptly paused mid-step and laid his ears right back with a distressed grumble.   

“Please don’t puke on my kitchen floor either.”  

After a moment or two Tou unfroze himself, only to suddenly zip across the room, bound up a chair, and leap on to the counter, where he let out a petulant mewl and sunk a full paw’s worth of claws into the material of Marik’s bag, flicking his tail in agitation.  

“Huh. You have good taste, sweets.” Marik gave the cat a comforting scritch behind the ears and reached for the bag himself. As soon as he cracked it open, Tou pressed his body back against his stomach, ears still flat against his head. “It’s ok, it’s just an asshole.” Marik reached in and pulled out the ankh. “Hello, asshole.”  

“ _Oh finally his highness decides t-……why is there a cat attacking me.”_   

Marik watched Tou take another swipe at the pendant with a discontented murr. “He must know you’re in there. Cats are weird like that.”  

“ _Make it stop. This thing isn’t as sturdy as the ring, you know._ ”  

“You’ll be fine, you big baby.” Still, Marik gave Tou a few comforting pats to calm him down, and grinned as the two continued to growl at each other.   

“ _Go away Fluffy, you piss me off._ ”  

“I’d pick the cat over you any day, Thief.”  

“ _You can go away too then._ ”  

“Fine by me.” Marik moved to toss the necklace into the bowl where he kept his keys.   

“ _Wait stop don’t do that.”_ The thief’s voice sounded almost panicked, which was just plain weird. Marik held the ankh up to his face.  

“I thought you wanted me to go away.”  

Marik waited out the answering silence. The thief had sounded scared, and he wanted to know why. The voice that answered him was very small.  

“ _Don’t put me back in the silence. I’ll be nice to your stupid cat. Just…please don’t leave me alone again._ ”  

Marik felt his heart clench at the thought of Bakura hiding from the dark like he so often had, and slipped the ankh around his neck without another word.  

* * *

 

Marik stared down at his chest where the ankh lay. The spirit had been unexpectedly calm since he was dumped in Marik’s lap the day before. He was still getting used to the odd extra presence in the room as he cooked, or read, or tidied up. He’d only taken the pendant off to use the bathroom, because that was just a little too weird, and the spirit thankfully hadn’t complained. Actually, he hadn’t really said much of anything. It was starting to get a little strange.   

He’d had to discourage Tou from his overly enthusiastic cuddling more than once when the cat tried to claw or bite at the pendant, which he figured at least deserved a thank you from the spirit inside it. All he’d noticed was the occasional sound of a hiss right back at the cat. Apparently, he was babysitting a 3,000 year old petulant child. Wonderful.  

He hadn’t done anything about looking for a spell to send Bakura on to the afterlife yet. There’s another thing he would have expected complaints about by now. Not that he didn’t want to be rid of the thief, of course, but he still felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He couldn’t quite convince himself that the spirit really only wanted to shuffle quietly away into the afterlife. That was far too simple and straightforward of a goal, but he couldn’t think of what else the spirit might want, given the state he was in now.   

He had just settled down on the couch with a fresh mug of tea when the spirit suddenly broke his silence with an annoyed huff.  

“ _Are you ever going to do something useful?_ ”  

Marik hummed into his tea. “Such as?”  

“ _Such as remember you’re supposed to be helping me get out of this ridiculous trinket.”_   

Marik considered his options, and decided to just be honest and see what the thief would have to say for himself. “I haven’t decided if I want to yet.”   

“ _Fuck you. If you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been trying very hard to be nice to my new host, and all you’ve done is sit around being useless.”_   

“This is you being nice? Wow, good job.”  

“ _You know what, Ishtar? Maybe I won’t be so courteous anymore if you’re going to be a little bitch about it._ ”  

Marik rolled his eyes at the petulant tone. He was definitely babysitting a 3,000-year-old child. “I’m just trying to figure out your angle.”  

“ _No angle. Not this time._ ”  

“You’re still asking me to mess around with shadow magic again.” Even if he was willing to believe Bakura had no ulterior motives, the thought of using shadow magic without the protection of the Rod sent shivers down his spine.

“ _Doesn’t have to be shadow magic. I really don’t care. Just get me home._ ”  

Marik hadn’t actually considered that, but Bakura didn’t have to know that. He made a point of settling further into the cushions. “I’ll get to it eventually.”  

_“Get to it now._ ”  

“Get to it yourself, if you’re so impatient.”  

“ _Don’t you think I’d have followed them years ago if I knew how? What kind of idiot do you think I am?”_   

“The last plan I saw you use ended with a trip to the shadow realm, so…” Marik smirked a little, hoping he’d manage to rile the spirit into a good argument.   

“ _And your last plan ended with kissing the pharaoh’s boots._ ”  

Marik scowled. “At least I got to move on with my life.”  

“ _And it’s past time for me to move on with mine, so get on with it._ ”  

Marik had gone from amused to feeling petulant himself. “Make me.”  

There was a brief pause. “ _Challenge accepted._ ” Marik could hear the smirk in the spirit’s voice, and felt a creeping sense of foreboding.  

It didn’t take long for Marik to seriously regret goading the spirit on. Bakura switched from silently waiting in the little ankh to keeping up an endless running commentary. On everything. All the time. He was relentless. He complained about the décor, made snide comments about everything Marik did no matter how mundane, complained that he didn’t have any good video games even though he couldn’t play them. Marik just about took Ryou’s idea to throw the necklace in the freezer when Bakura started singing ’99 bottles of beer on the wall’ at full volume. But he couldn’t forget how lost and frightened the spirit had sounded when he had tried to dump him when they first arrived. He ground his teeth in frustration and tried to persevere.   

“ _Are you enjoying my song?”_   

“You’re lucky I don’t throw you out the window.”  

He heard an exaggerated gasp from the thief. “ _By Ra, you have a WINDOW? They allow that in your little cult these days? What wonders of the modern world! You must be so proud! You- hey Marik what the hell?_ ”  

That’s it. He needed a time out, and he needed it now. Marik viciously grabbed his keys off the counter as he stomped towards the garage. “That’s it, I’m done with this. I’ve had enough.” Ryou could deal with this shit for a few hours.  

“ _Wait, where are you going?_ ”  

Marik didn’t bother replying to the frantic question as he wrenched open the door and grabbed his helmet before heading for his bike.   

“ _You can’t leave!_ ”  

“Good luck stopping me.”  

“ _No! You can’t just walk away!”_   

“Oh, you bet I can.”  

_"No!!”_   

Marik’s fingers were inches from the handlebar of his bike when there was a sudden loud bang from the engine. The bike shuddered as the kickstand gave way, and fell to the floor with a resounding crash and the squeal of metal on rough concrete. Marik stared in stunned silence as oil started to ooze onto the floor like blood from a deadly wound.   

Marik seethed. “What. Did. You. _Do._ ”  

“ _You can’t leave me like this without even trying! You can’t!”_   

Marik clenched his hands into fists, and tried to suppress his trembling. “You stupid JACKASS, I was just going to dump you on Ryou for a bit and go for a ride to THINK and get away from your stupid, horrible singing. What the hell is wrong with you?! You can’t just… you don’t… _argh_!!”. With that, Marik ripped the necklace from around his neck and threw it as hard as he could against the opposite wall, breathing heavily. Bakura, of course, was now silent.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/) :)


	4. In which actions are very thoroughly regretted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor cw: Brief appearance of a homophobic asshat, who gets exactly what he deserves. ;)

It took Marik a few hours to calm down after his outburst. His head felt clearer now, but he wasn’t quite ready to feel sorry for the spirit sitting somewhere on the floor in the corner of the garage. How _dare_ he. Of all the spoiled, selfish…  

Marik took another deep, calming breath. In through the nose, out from the mouth. Again. He couldn’t keep losing his temper like that or this wouldn’t go anywhere. In. Out. Better. Tou had crawled up into this lap some time ago, and he went back to stroking the soft fur under his fingers. The cat relaxed further, letting out a satisfied little murmuring sound at the attention.   

Marik ran his other hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down and sort out his thoughts. Ok, the bike was broken somehow. Bakura was an asshole. These things were still true. What else? He hadn’t checked exactly what was broken, or how badly, so it might not be as bad as it looked. That was good. Bakura’s pendant was sitting in the corner of the garage somewhere collecting dust. That was… less good.

It seemed pretty clear that he couldn’t go on having a bored, fidgety spirit living in his head full-time without it ending in violence. But the thought of Bakura caught alone in the dark made his heart clench painfully, so he couldn’t just dump him in a bin and be done with it. Marik may not be the sweetest person according to some people, but he wasn’t that cruel. Bakura had sounded genuinely fearful of being left alone. He was still an asshole, but….  

Marik gave Tou a thankful smooch on the head as he dislodged the cat from his lap and got up to head back to the garage. It was time to go figure out his next steps.   

* * *

 

 _Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck._   

He tried to squirm against the darkness he imagined clinging at his arms, grabbing at his ankles, trying to force its way down his throat. He couldn’t do this again. It was dark here. Empty. Emptier than the shadow realm, with its horrors teasing you from just around every imaginary corner and from out of every misty crevice. This was very nearly worse with the oppressive silence. The nothing. The intensity of the nothing.  

 _What have I done._   

He hadn’t meant to do that. He hadn’t known that he could do something that big. He’d panicked. He couldn’t let them see the fear. He couldn’t look desperate. But they couldn’t _leave_ him again. He can’t be stuck forever, he can’t, and when it had looked like Marik was leaving, he just…he…  

_I panicked. Why did I do that._   

He couldn’t seem to imagine a form for himself without a guide. He felt like he was made of nothing more than spite and vapour, dissipating fast and yet unable to move. He was stuck here. He was going to be left here forever. He would lose himself here. He was utterly helpless. Where would he go when he finally dissolved? Would he be _able_ to go? He thought he might be trying to scream but he wasn’t sure.   

 _Please help._   

The first hazy glimmers of light felt like a gulp of cold air, forcing his thoughts back into focus and form with an almost painful jolt. Bakura watched Marik’s face swim into hazy view with a sense of relief so intense he felt like sobbing. He’d have hugged him if he had arms to do it with. The strange darkness of his isolation slipped away from his mind like oil off of water and it felt unreal moments later, leaving only a lingering sense of unease in the vicinity of what he imagined would be his shoulder blades. He watched, absolutely silent, as the Marik’s hazy form held the ankh up to eye level. He missed the clarity of vision he’d had in the ring, but even this hazy light felt like a precious treasure after the darkness.   

“Bakura? You still in there?”  

“ _Yes._ ”  

“Are you going to break anything else if I put this back on?”  

“ _No._ ” He hoped that didn’t sound as emphatic as it probably did.   

“Ok then.” Marik slipped the pendant back over his head, and the world became a notch or two clearer. Bakura could see the shape of the congealing puddle of bike blood on the concrete. He tried and failed to convince himself he didn’t actually feel bad about it.  

“Are you ok?”  

“ _…yes._ ”  

Bakura got the sudden sensation that Marik was giving him a sceptical look. “What did you do while I was gone?”  

“ _Nothing I haven’t done before._ ”  

Marik paused, and looked about ready to say something else before he deflated a bit. “Right.”  

Thankfully, Marik didn’t pry any further and turned to examine the damage Bakura had caused. Bakura remained silent as he watched the bike get propped up and towelled off with a rag. Marik then did a whole bunch of incomprehensible things with bits of metal and wire and tubing and shit, mumbling to himself the whole time. Bakura managed to avoid commenting on how he looked a little crazy, which he figured probably deserved a medal. Or at least a steak. After what felt like ages, Marik sat back on his heels and wiped his hand on a rag with a note of finality.   

“Well, it looks easy enough to fix. You are damn lucky, Thief.” Marik stroked his fingers regretfully over the deep scratches in the paint before balling up the rag. Bakura watched the oily cloth sail across the room into a bin before he was suddenly airborne again, held in front of piercing lavender eyes. He felt a jolt of fear in his stomach when Marik removed the necklace again, and tried to damp it down.   

Marik stared at the trinket intensely. “Ok, here’s the deal. You can stay here. I’ll try not to take this off again. And we’ll try to get you the hell out of here as fast as we can before we kill each other.” Marik gave the pendant a little shake that Bakura couldn’t feel. “But if you pull a stunt like that ever again, I’m going to stuff you in an envelope and leave you on Ryou’s doorstep to do with as he pleases, is that understood?”  

“ _Deal.”_ Bakura let the wave of relief wash over him as the ankh settled solidly back on Marik’s chest.  

Marik grabbed his leather jacket and shrugged it on. “Good. The first thing we’re going to do is go get the parts I need to fix this mess of yours.”  

Bakura bit back the complaint that this was just delaying him getting home again as they walked out the door. He watched the blurry shapes of the city go by, trying to pick out any familiar landmarks.   

 _“Where are we?_ ”  

“Domino. Don’t you recognize it?”  

“ _Hmm._ ”  

“Was that a yes or a no?”  

“ _It’s hard to tell. This isn’t the ring, you know. It’s all blurry in here.”_   

“What do you mean?” There was a little hitch in Marik’s breathing. “Oh shit, did I damage it?”  

“ _No. It’s just like that in this Ra-damned thing. That’s why I don’t want your furry little beast playing with it. The sooner I’m out of this thing, the better.”_   

“Maybe we can find you something better in the meantime.”  

 _“What else would we use? The Millennium Items are gone. Or did you forget your precious pharaoh’s grand exit? Just focus on getting me the hell out of here.”_   

“After the bike.”  

Bakura bit back a sigh. “ _If you must.”_   

They were approaching a building that Bakura assumed was a mechanic’s shop of some sort. He really had no interest in all of this useless crap, but he knew better than to complain as Marik lost himself in looking at the contents of the shelves. Ryou had gotten similarly absorbed looking at supplies for his Monster World dioramas, but at least that had been interesting, and occasionally useful.

Bakura found himself reminiscing about his old host’s campaigns as they moved around the store and eventually ended up with a bag of who the hell knows what. He would have been quite content to let his mind keep drifting if Marik hadn’t come to an abrupt stop in the parking lot. Bakura tuned back in to the moment as Marik raised his voice.   

“Excuse you.”  

“I asked what you’re doing shopping in a man’s store, you little sissy. You shopping for your _boyfriend_ or something?” Some Neanderthal in what looked like a badly ripped pair of jeans laughed in Marik’s direction. Marik just stared back at him like he was the world’s biggest idiot. This was apparently the wrong move, since the stranger stepped away from his SUV to stalk towards them. Bakura bristled right along with Marik as the man approached.  

“You hear me, pretty boy?”  

“I sure smell you. You might want to step back a bit before I puke.”  

Bakura snickered at the man’s stunned expression. Clearly, he’d never met Marik before, and he hadn’t expected a fight from someone dressed in clean clothes. Even still, he didn’t look like someone Marik should get into a fist fight with. Bakura would hate to have his little golden home damaged by some idiot with a masculinity complex after all this. He scanned the parking lot for anything that would help, and it only took a moment for him to find some truly delightful inspiration.   

 _“Keep him busy and don’t die for 30 seconds.”_   

Marik nodded to thin air. “Done.”  

The man raised an eyebrow. “You talking to yourself now, too? You crazy or something?”  

“Not anymore, no.” Bakura was only half-listening to this idiot mouth off. He focused all his annoyance about twenty feet behind the man, and tried to figure out how he had channelled those emotions to end up with a damaged bike earlier on.   

“Well then you must be stupid, coming here all alone and runnin’ your mouth like that. You wanna have a problem?”  

“Other than your breath?” Bakura snickered again, and then heard a very satisfying _pop_.  

“ _Got it._ ”  

Marik was still holding his ground as the man stalked further forward.   

“Oh ho, you _must_ be stupid or something.”  

Bakura could feel it the moment Marik realized what he’d done. Marik’s shoulders trembled with suppressed laughter as the man’s SUV started to roll itself down the hill, having very obviously lost its brakes.   

Marik jerked his chin towards the SUV. “At least I’m smart enough to park my damn car right, asshole.”  

“Huh?” The man whirled around and let out a furious yell when he realized what was happening. He immediately took off after the car, even though it was obvious he wasn’t going to be able to catch up to it.

He let out an even louder yelp when he realized his SUV was headed straight towards the back end of a work truck carrying long bundles of metal tubing.  

“ _Fucker._ ”  

Neither Marik or Bakura could hold back their gales of laughter when the SUV merrily met its doom on the metal poles. The sound of the windshield shattering itself was almost as beautiful as its owner’s howls of despair. Bakura cackled at the man’s devastated expression. Serves the prick right. Marik reigned himself in just long enough to shout over his shoulder as he bolted.   

“And my boyfriend knows how to park a car too, you dumb fuck!” The scandalized look on the man’s face was beyond hysterical.  

“ _You actually have a boyfriend?_ ”  

“Fuck no, who has time for that, but did you see the look on his _face?_ ” Marik’s laughter was catching. “Oh gods, that was _perfect_ , I need to take you shopping for parts every time….” Marik’s voice and laughter trailed off a bit as they rounded a corner. “Or, you know…. however long.”  

Bakura felt his laughter trail off too. “ _Or however long._ ”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/) :)


	5. In which spirits are permitted to wander free

The next morning, Marik sat on an upturned box in the garage, fitting the last of the new parts in place on his bike. The pair of them were still occasionally chuckling at the memory of that guy’s face as his car totalled itself. Marik was used to dealing with the occasional comment about his hair and jewellery and knew he could handle himself if it came to that, but watching that pompous dickwad get what he deserved had still been deliciously satisfying. Who knew Bakura’s vehicle-destroying powers would turn out to be so great? Maybe having him kicking around wasn’t so bad after all.  

The last bolt had just been tightened when his ringtone filled the room. “Ryou Bakura” flashed on the screen. Marik quickly swiped to answer and put it on speakerphone so Bakura could listen in, even if Ryou wouldn’t be able to hear him.   

“Hey Ryou. You better not have brought the pharaoh back too or something.”  

Ryou’s laughter spilled out of the phone. “No, no, just……checking in.”   

Bakura’s response was immediate. “ _He’s hiding something._ ”  

Marik held a hand over the phone and spoke quietly to Bakura. “How do you know?”  

“ _I can tell. I know my host’s voice. He’s plotting something.”_   

“Marik? Are you there?”  

He pulled his hand away from the speaker. “Yes, I’m here. Bakura had something to say, sorry.”  

“Oh, well I hope it was something nice then.” There was a brief pause. “Are you having any trouble keeping him in check?”  

“Not really. Why?”  

There was another beat of silence on the other end of the line. “How good are the brakes on your bike?” There was a muffled giggle.  

“ _How the hell does he know about that?”_   

Marik raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”  

“Did you know you’re an internet star?”  

“What??”  

Ryou laughed more openly this time. “Oh yes. There’s a video going around. ‘ _Angry dude gets instant karma_ ’. It came up on my feed. I assume that was Bakura’s doing…”  

“Oh shit, someone recorded that?”  

“Yep. I was worried when I saw you in the video, until I saw what was happening. You looked like you were enjoying yourself. Should I be worried that you two are back to plotting some terrible vengeance scheme?”  

Marik couldn’t help but laugh. “No, I think you’re safe.”  

“Good, good. Still though…”, and Ryou’s voice took on a contemplative edge, “it would probably help if you could keep a better eye on him. Has his connection to the ankh changed at all?”  

Marik held out the ankh and looked down at it with a questioning look.   

“ _No, the cat hasn’t killed me yet._ ”  

Marik rolled his eyes. “No. Bakura says no too.”  

“Ok. I’ve been thinking about that a bit, and it might be good to try to anchor him more like he was in the ring, especially if he can sneak around and blow up a car or whatever.”  

“ _What the hell is he talking about._ ”  

“Bakura is asking very nicely what you’re talking about.”  

They heard Ryou snort. “Sure he is. I just mean, it might be good if we could see him to keep tabs on him, and for him to have more control over what he does to things around him. I haven’t had any luck finding spells to get him to Aaru, but I’ve found a few that might help with that, at least. If he could interact with the world around him in a less poltergeist-y way he might even actually be useful for once. It would be worth talking through some options, anyways.”  

Marik tuned out Bakura’s indignant sputtering and felt momentarily bad that Ryou had been doing research on spells while he dragged his feet. After all, the worst the thief had done since coming back was temporarily wreck his bike, and he got the feeling that had just been some sort of messed up defence mechanism.   

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Ryou’s voice. “Marik? What do you think?”  

Marik fingered the pendant for a moment. “I think it’s worth talking about it, at least.”  

“Wonderful! Come over anytime.”  

“See you.” Marik hit end on the call, and got up to grab his coat. “We may as well head over now. You’re not going to blow up my bike this time, are you?”  

“ _Fuck no. I want to find out what my host found out_.”  

“He has a name, you know. I’m more of your host now than him, anyways.”  

“ _Whatever._ ”   

Bakura was silent for a minute as Marik revved the bike to life. Marik grinned when the engine purred, good as new, but he didn’t have long to enjoy the sound before Bakura started rambling again. Marik laughed a little at how much the ancient spirit started to sound like an excited toddler, asking rapid-fire questions about what he’d soon be able to see and do on his own.  

“You realize you know literally everything I do about what he’s planning, right?”  

_“Hush. Try existing as a vague puff of aura for a while and see how calm you are when someone tells you they can make you real again._ ”  

Marik hmm’d, but the idea of ‘real again’ stuck in his mind as they made their way to Ryou’s home. He realized he wasn’t entirely sure how ‘real’ the spirit actually was at this point. Was a familiar voice attached to a bit of plain gold enough to be a person, or was he just a leftover shard of memory and soul? He chose to keep the thought to himself, if for no other reason than he didn’t have the heart to dampen Bakura’s enthusiasm.

Soon they were parking at Ryou’s place, and Ryou was swinging the door open before Marik even knocked.  

“Come in, come in. I hope you didn’t have any more trouble on the way over.”  

Marik shook his head as he hung up his coat and toed off his shoes in the entryway. “No more trouble.”  

Ryou turned them towards the living room and looked cheerfully Marik. “So, other than delivering instant karma, what else did you do on your first few days dealing with Bakura?”  

“I threw him at a wall.”  

Ryou nodded. “Understandable. He probably deserved it. What’d he do?”  

Marik smirked at Bakura’s immediate protests, and cheerfully ignored them. “Had a temper tantrum and broke my bike. That’s why we were at that shop in the first place. I fixed the engine easily enough, but it’s still scratched all down one side.”  

Ryou raised an eyebrow. “And you still want to give him more freedom?”  

“He also totalled some asshole’s car for me.”  

“Fair point.” Bakura’s grumbling trailed off to vague murmurs at that.   

They reached the living room, which was now covered in stacks of books. Mounds of them. What the hell?  

“Ryou, did you have all of these just……lying around?”  

“Oh no, I got some from the library. There isn’t room in here to have a copy of all the good reference books on my own, normally. These are special circumstances.” Ryou’s eyes were practically sparkling with enthusiasm.   

Marik could hear Bakura snickering from the ankh on his chest.   

“If you have all this, why did you dump him on me?”  

Ryou waved the comment away. “I’ve done my time with him. It’s your turn. Besides, it’s so much easier to look at this stuff without him wreaking havoc on my life, you know? Plus, he likes you.”  

Bakura let out an indignant sputter, and Marik smirked.   

“He’s agreeing with you very enthusiastically right now.”  

“ _I am NOT, you horrible little-”_   

Ryou laughed cheerfully. “Oh good. About time he made a proper friend!” He winked and shoved a stack of books over so Marik could sit.   

Marik stared around at the mess. “So… what exactly is the plan here?”  

“Oh!” Ryou clapped his hands and bounced in his seat a little. Marik had kind of forgotten how… unique… Ryou could be about some things. “Well! I found some spells that are meant to make spirits appear, you know? And I didn’t think much of it, really, since that’s not really the goal here, but then again it looks like it might take a while to find a good spell for what we _are_ trying to do, so I thought he might get a little antsy with nothing to do, and that might not end well, you know?”  

Marik snorted. “No kidding.”  

“Yes, so I have a spell that’s meant to let you see a spirit who’s nearby, and it’s for calling up someone new, technically, but I figure if we cast it on the ankh it should just kind of boost Bakura’s presence a bit or something. If he could have an actual form he might even be able to help research, which is so much more useful than destroying vehicles, really.”  

“ _Bold of him to assume I’ll help._ ”  

Marik looked from Ryou to his chest. “I thought you wanted to leave. Be helpful, asshole.” He looked at Ryou. “He’s being stubborn.”  

“That’s perfectly normal.” Ryou poked a finger at the ankh. “You’ll help with the research if you know what’s good for you, spirit.”  

There was a sullen silence from Bakura before he spoke again. “ _…I can’t read, you idiots._ ”  

Marik blinked. “Oh. Right, that makes sense.”  

“Well yes, it should, he needs to contribu-”  

“Not that, Ryou. Apparently he can’t read, which is a good point.”  

Ryou blinked. “Oh. Yes, I suppose.” He paused, then reached for the necklace. “Ok, this is getting confusing, let me just see if…”  

Marik tried very hard not to look too uncomfortable as Ryou manhandled the pendant around his neck. Eventually, Ryou huffed. “I don’t think the chain is long enough to get around both of us. Here, gimme your wrist.” Ryou grabbed at Marik’s wrist and slipped the pendant from around his neck. He held their hands together and wove the chain around both of their forearms. “There, let’s see if we can make this a three-way call now. Bakura, can you hear me?”  

“ _I could hear you before you started groping Marik.”_   

Ryou clapped. “Oh good, I can hear him now. You can too, right?” Marik gave a quick nod, but didn’t get a chance to say anything more before Ryou ploughed on. “Ok, grand. So, Bakura. Maybe you can’t help read the books, but I’m sure you know enough about ancient Egyptian magic to help somehow or other.”  

“ _Maybe. The priests weren’t exactly teaching the masses how to cast. It took me a long time to learn how to use Diabound properly._ ”  

“All the better! You’re used to figuring things out on your own, that might be very useful. But in any event, that doesn’t matter much unless you’re able to do something other than bother poor Marik with your rambling.”  

“ _I do NOT ramble._ ”  

Ryou and Marik opened their mouths to reply at the same time. “Yes you do.”  

Marik and Ryou shared a grin. “So how does this spell work, Ryou? The sooner we get him out of my head, the better.”  

“It should be fairly simple. We can cast it right away if you like. It sounds like it should probably work right.”  

“ _You’re going to mess with my soul using something that ‘sounds’ like it will ‘probably’ work? I take it back, I’m fine right here._ ”  

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. I’m sure it will be fine! You’re already anchored quite well to the ankh, anyways.”  

Marik frowned. “Yes, but the last spell you used that was ‘probably supposed to work’ wasn’t supposed to anchor him there at all, and now we’re stuck with him. What if this one goes wrong, too?”  

“Well, if it works that much better than intended again, I guess we’ll get the chance to send him to the afterlife the old-fashioned way.”  

Marik felt his eyes widen in surprise as Bakura burst out laughing.   

“ _I would love to see you try, little host._ ”  

“I have a lovely set of kitchen knives. I remember how fond you are of stabbing things. It’ll be romantic.”  

Bakura cackled harder as Marik squirmed a little uncomfortably in his seat. “About that, Ryou…”  

“About nothing. It was a grand adventure. If he tries it again I’ll just stab him back this time.”  

Marik found himself at a loss for words again. He wondered how long it would take to get used to Ryou’s bizarre sense of humour around the spirit.   

Ryou turned his attention back to the little ankh dangling between their hands. “But stabbings aside, I really do think this will work. I wouldn’t put you in danger on purpose after all this. I want to see how the story really ends, after all.”  

There was a much longer silence from Bakura before he answered this time. “ _Ok, let’s try. If it goes badly it’s not like it’s the first time._ ”  

“Excellent! I’ll just set up really quick. This is so exciting!”  

* * *

  

Marik stared at the drawings and bowls of herbs Ryou had assembled on the kitchen table. He couldn’t make much sense of it all, but Ryou seemed confident enough. The little golden ankh had been moved into the middle of the table once the ceremony was set up. They couldn’t hear Bakura’s voice anymore, but Marik would swear that the little red stone was still watching them. He laid a gentle hand on Ryou’s arm as he made some final adjustments to the array.   

“Ryou, about this spell.” Ryou just hmm’d as he nudged a bundle of leaves an inch to the left. “Do you really think it’s safe to cast on Bakura, specifically?”  

Ryou continued poking at his supplies. “What do you mean?”  

“Well…” Marik had been chewing over the issue since Bakura casually mentioned being ‘real’ again, but he still wasn’t sure what words he needed. “Are you even sure he’s a proper spirit anymore?” Marik sighed. How could he explain why he was worried about this? “I mean, he seems about the same as I remember him, but he also said that everything is hazier now than it was in the ring. He seems weaker. He certainly doesn’t have all the abilities he had in Battle City. What if he’s not… well, not really _real_ anymore? What if he just kind of disintegrates if we try to make him whole?”  

Ryou stopped what he was doing and looked deep in thought for a moment. “I think he’s as real as he ever was. I mean, the Millennium Items were incredibly powerful, created with a ridiculously powerful spell. That’s probably why he was ‘more’, before.” He smiled softly. “I really wouldn’t cast a spell I thought would destroy him after all this, you know.”  

Marik sighed. He really didn’t feel entirely comfortable with this. He also wasn’t sure _why_ he felt so uncomfortable with this, since he was supposed to want the spirit gone anyways.   

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he felt Ryou’s hand on his arm, and turned to see Ryou’s kind eyes looking into his. “He’ll be fine. Even if this banishes him, he’ll probably be back in an hour, ready to stab my other arm in vengeance.”  

Marik couldn’t help but grin a bit at that. “You’re not wrong about that, at least.” He squared his shoulders, trying to shake off the weird anxiety he was feeling over this spell. “Ok, let’s give this a try.”  

“Excellent!” Ryou clapped his hands before gesturing to a seat nearby. “You just sit over there. It only needs one person to cast it, so I’ll just go ahead and see what I can do. Hopefully, Bakura will be able to tell you how it worked himself in a minute.”  

Marik sat and watched, feeling a little helpless as Ryou lit some incense and spread his hands over the array before starting a soothing, rhythmic chant. At first, it didn’t look like the spell was going to do anything but make the room smell slightly nicer as the incense burned. Then, suddenly, for no clear reason Marik could see, the little ankh sitting at the centre started to glow. It started to glow a _lot_. Marik held a hand over his eyes to shield them, and was just about to call out to Ryou when there was a loud pop, like a firecracker going off. The glow abruptly stopped, along with Ryou’s chanting.   

Marik cautiously lowered his hand, only to see a concerningly large amount of smoke swirling around a beaming Ryou.   

“Oh, excellent! That went wonderfully, didn’t it?”  

Marik peered back at the spell circle, but nothing looked changed to him. The incense was completely gone – that explained the smoke – but the rest of it looked ordinary. The stone on the ankh even looked a little duller than when they started. Or was that just in his imagination?  

Ryou turned his beaming grin to Marik. “Wasn’t that just fascinating?” He must have spotted Marik’s confused expression, because he leapt into action. “Oh, here! This will help!” With no ceremony whatsoever, Ryou scooped Bakura’s necklace out of the circle and shoved it into Marik’s hands.   

Marik felt his jaw drop, but he couldn’t help it.   

As soon as he had a grip on the ankh again, a figure appeared amongst the smoke. But it wasn’t Bakura. Or… maybe it was Bakura? It was definitely someone. It was definitely someone, without a shirt. It was… yes, there was definitely a translucent man in the room. Yep. That was a thing.  

“ _Hello there, Marik.”_ Yes, there was definitely a shirtless, smirking man in Ryou’s kitchen, who apparently knew his name. A shirtless, smirking man that may well have been Bakura.   

“Um.”  

“ _Did you trade Marik’s brain in for the spell, host?_ ” Ok, shirtless smirking Bakura then. Definitely. He had a vicious looking scar running down his cheek. That was new.   

“I didn’t mean to. I dunno what’s wrong with him.” Marik felt a finger poke him in the forehead, and snapped out of it in a hurry as he turned to Ryou.  

“Ryou, what did you do to him?”  

“ _He gave me a proper form, idiot. Like he said he would?”_   

Marik turned to Ryou, trying very hard not to look completely poleaxed. “But he doesn’t look like you. He used to look like you.”  

“Oh!” And Ryou had the nerve to _giggle_. “Well, I suppose not. I’m not really his host body anymore, so I suppose he can’t steal my look. This must be what he looked like in Egypt or something.”  

“ _Very good, host.”_ Bakura made a show of looking at his own hands, and running a hand across a scarred cheek. “ _The Thief King returns!”_ Bakura let out a loud, gleeful cackle towards the ceiling. Marik found he couldn’t stop staring. He turned completely away to face Ryou instead.   

“So this worked, then.”  

“It certainly seems so.”  

They both turned to look at Bakura, who was staring down at his own form, fiddling with the shenti around his waist and examining the rings on his fingers. He looked positively gleeful. “ _Everything is -clear- again! I can walk again!”_ He strode across the room and snatched up a clove of garlic, which followed his movements rather reluctantly at first but held. “ _Ha!!”_ He dropped it back onto the counter. “ _Host, you’re brilliant. I’m free!”_   

Ryou couldn’t seem to stop beaming. “You’re very welcome. This is so cool!” He clapped his hands together in excitement.

Marik turned surprised eyes at Ryou. “You can see him? But, I’m holding his ankh.”  

“Oh!” Ryou looked like he hadn’t actually noticed that detail. “Well, I suppose since I cast the spell I can see the results? Here, give me that for a second.” He snatched the chain from Marik’s grip. Bakura – or was he supposed to call him the Thief King now? – vanished from his sight as soon as the metal left his fingers. Marik tried not to feel too disappointed. “Hmm. That doesn’t seem to make a difference.” He plunked the chain back in Marik’s hand, and there Bakura was again, now looking contemplatively at Ryou’s knife block.  

“He disappeared when you took it from me, though.”  

Ryou frowned. “Huh. I guess I have spellcaster’s privilege, but anyone else needs to hold the ankh to see him. That’s probably a good thing. I’d hate to have to explain him in the frozen food aisle.”  

“Oh.” Marik looked from the pendant in his hand to Ryou. “I guess I can keep this then, right?” He was already slipping it safely around his neck again as he spoke.   

“Oh yes, of course. You’ll need that to actually keep an eye on him.” Ryou stalked towards Bakura, who was now trying, and failing, to open the fridge. “Bakura.”  

Something about Ryou’s too-sweet tone stopped the thief cold. He turned to Ryou. “ _Yes, former host of mine?”_ He crossed his arms over his very bare chest.

Ryou smiled so widely at Bakura that his eyes crinkled up at the corners. “I’m so very glad that you’re happy, and I’m so very glad that you’re freer now. It’s quite wonderful.” His smile fell back into a more normal beaming grin. “But if I find out you can’t play nicely with Marik or all the other kids, I’ll be more than happy to send you right back to where you came from. ‘Kay?” The crinkly smile was back.

Bakura sent a slightly wide-eyed look at Marik, who just shrugged, before looking back at Ryou. “ _Understood._ ”  

“Excellent!” Ryou rocked back on his heels, surveying the two others in his kitchen. Marik could swear his eyes paused on him for a fraction of a second. “Well then! I’m sure you’ll have lots to get used to now, and I should probably clean all this up. This was fun! We should do it again sometime!”  

And with that, Marik found himself quickly shuffled back outside again, with his bike and a newly upgraded Egyptian thief. What has happening to his life?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/) :) (Ooh, Marik's in for it now, amirite? ;p )


	6. In which Bakura does not get along well with the cat

Bakura could barely contain himself on the ride back to Marik’s apartment. After some fumbling, they’d discovered that he could hide back in the little ankh much like he’d done with the ring, so he was stuck in it again for now. That made riding the bike less awkward, sure, but he couldn’t wait to get back out and explore things properly. Freedom! At last!  

He also couldn’t wait to start making Marik’s life more entertaining. The poor boy had looked like he’d never seen a spirit before when he appeared, and that was just kind of sad for the former wielder of a Millennium Item. He must have gone soft in the last few years. Ah, this was going to be fun.  

Bakura rematerialized himself the instant Marik pulled in to park. He looked eagerly around the garage, now that he was finally able to see it properly. It was strewn with all kinds of incomprehensible modern gadgets that he could only assume had something to do with Marik’s precious motorbike. “ _This place is a disaster.”_   

“Aren’t you used to disasters by now?”    

Bakura made good use of a rude hand gesture he’d picked up from Ryou before going to snoop through the shelves. He poked at a box full of metal odds and ends. “ _You’re hoarding metal crap like I used to hoard gold. That’s just weird._ ”   

“Did you really not notice any of this before?”  

“ _Couldn’t really see it._ ” A box shifted over. He nudged a tire iron along the shelf. “ _This would make a good weapon.”_    

“We’re not going to do anything that needs weapons, Bakura.”  

“ _Well isn’t your life boring, then._ ”  

“My life is just fine, thanks. How’s yours going?”  

 “ _Ha-fucking-ha._ ”  

Their conversation was cut off by a scratching noise at the door. They both turned to look at it, and Bakura heaved a long-suffering sigh.  “ _Ok fine, let’s go greet your damn animal._ ”  

Marik turned to unlock the door and Bakura eagerly followed Marik into the house, despite his complaint. As expected, it didn’t take long for him to hear Tou’s unhappy grumbling. With a wicked grin, he quietly vanished himself as Marik crouched down to greet his aggravating little pet.   

Even in his vanished state, he had a better impression of the world now than before Ryou’s spell. He could see the subtle striping on the cat’s head as he pushed up into Marik’s hand, demanding scritches behind the ears. Bakura could admit that under different circumstances the cat would probably be considered cute. But Tou was a pain in the ass, so too bad for the damn cat. His calm, happy demeanour around Marik was a lie, and he was about to get what he deserved.  

When Marik leaned forward a little further to stroke down the cat’s back, the ankh around Marik’s neck slipped out of his jacket. Tou’s attitude changed in an instant. He flattened his ears and took a claw-filled swipe at the gold. Marik blocked the blow, and scooped the disgruntled cat onto his lap to try to calm him down.  

“Tou, be nice. I don’t want to know what happens if we break this thing and manage to set Bakura loose on the world.” Tou grumbled and pushed his cheek into Marik’s chest, looking discontentedly away.   

Bakura took his chance. He materialized himself an inch from Tou’s nose, wearing a wide wicked grin. “ _Yeah, cat. Be nice.”_   

Tou lost it. As soon as Bakura appeared, he let out a loud yowl and arched his back, puffing his fur up as high as he could, and swiped right at Bakura’s face with a full set of claws, hissing viciously. He obviously planned to give the thief another scar if at all possible, but just as obviously didn’t plan on not being able to make contact with his prey, and tumbled forward out of Marik’s lap. Tou let out another loud, offended yelp before bolting off with his tail straight up in the air. He scurried under the couch as Bakura broke into loud cackling laughter.   

“Oh what the fuck, Bakura. Did you have to do that?” Marik scowled at Bakura as viciously as Tou had.  

“ _Yes. Yes I did. That was hysterical.”_ Bakura turned to peer towards the couch, from which Tou was still growling furiously at him. “ _That’ll teach you to mess with my home, cat!_ ”   

“You’re such an asshole.”  

Bakura shot Marik a shit-eating grin.   

“Next time I’m gonna let Tou get in a few swipes for free.” Marik turned away from Bakura’s grumpy pout, and flattened himself on the floor near the couch to try to tempt the terrified cat back out. “C’mon out, Tou, he can’t hurt you. He won’t scare you again either, if he knows what’s good for him.” He shot a glare in Bakura’s direction. Bakura just rolled his eyes and sat himself on the ground next to Marik.  

Bakura watched Marik try to coax Tou out from his hiding spot. All Marik was getting for his trouble was grumpy noises and the occasional smack. Bakura watched his expression slowly shift as the cat continued to hide. Seeing Marik all riled up and annoyed was fun. But now he was starting to look genuinely upset. Bakura supposed he hadn’t been able to appreciate the expressions on Marik’s more matured face up until now. He watched the shift of emotion carefully. After a few minutes, Bakura decided that his worried expression was annoying. He didn’t enjoy that expression at all. It had to go.   

He left Marik to his worried coaxing and turned to the kitchen. He shuffled to the cabinet where he’d seen Marik get food for the little beast. It was latched shut. Dammit. It took a few tries, but he managed to crack it open. He rifled through the packages. The big one must be regular food, but there was a small packet that was probably the treats. Bakura carefully lifted it up and quickly discovered that holding the bag and closing the door at the same time was more than he could handle. Fuck it, the door could stay that way.   

He got the treat packet to the counter and wrestled it open with fingers that just didn’t want to interact properly with the physical world anymore. He missed his skill with sleight of hand. This form could barely handle slight of arm. He’d work on it more later. Right now he had to get that annoying look off Marik’s face.

Finally, he managed to get a few little pellets of what had damn well better be cat treats out of the bag and in hand. Success. On the way back to Marik, he also noticed one of the little beast’s toys, and discovered that if he nudged it forward with his foot he could move both it and the treats at once. He grinned, then scowled at himself. Of all the stupid things to feel like a small victory….  

Marik was still laid out on his stomach next to the couch. Bakura gave the little plush mouse one more firm kick forwards and then crouched down next to Marik. He dumped the treats on the ground just beyond the edge of Tou’s hiding space and spoke in the general direction of the annoyed cat sounds.   

“ _I’ve got your food and your toy, you fluffy little asshole. Get your ass out from under there before Marik loses his shit.”_ All he got for his trouble was a loud hiss.   

“ _Yeah, fuck you too.”_ Bakura turned to Marik and noticed that he was giving him an odd look. “… _what?_ ”  

“Nothing.” Marik quickly turned his attention back to the couch. “Tou, come on. Bakura brought you presents. You like presents. Please?”  

Bakura frowned. Marik still had the annoying worried look on his face. Time to end this nonsense. He flopped flat on the ground next to Marik, and snatched up a treat. Carefully, he reached under the couch with the morsel. “ _Enough. Take your treat and get out.”_ He waved the treat enticingly. “ _C’mon, cat. We haven’t got all day for this shit.”_   

Tou watched the treat waving in front of him, as though considering his options. Suddenly, he swiped a paw forward. Of course, he passed right through Bakura’s hand but not the treat, which went skittering across the floor towards where Marik was laying. Tou took off after it like a shot, and gulped down the morsel as soon as he had successfully pounced it into submission.   

Marik scooped Tou up and into his arms as soon as he could get hold of him, looking relieved. Bakura huffed, and picked up a second treat to hold out to the cat once he was settled in Marik’s lap. “ _Good Fluffy. Don’t be such a pussy next time.”_ He grinned widely at his own joke, and held back an amused snort when the cat chomped the treat away from his fingers without hesitation. Apparently, greed for treats outweighed hatred of spirits. Good to know.   

Bakura looked up at Marik, and was pleased to find a smile back on his face. Much better. Bakura couldn’t help but smile back… even if the cat was still a little asshole.   

* * *

 

Later, Bakura was watching Marik cook something for dinner. He wrinkled his nose as he watched the ingredients being added. “ _What the hell are you cooking, that looks disgusting._ ”  

“It’s just stirfry. You’ve seen it before.”  

“ _I haven’t seen -that-. What the hell is that white crap?”_   

“You mean the tofu?”  

“ _The hell is tofu._ ”  

Marik rolled his eyes. “It’s a substitute for meat.”  

Bakura gave Marik a totally nonplussed look. “ _Why would you substitute the meat?_ ”  

“…because I don’t eat it?”  

“ _What?_ ” Bakura gaped.

Marik raised an eyebrow at him. “You seriously never noticed that?”  

Bakura quickly crossed his arms and looked away. “ _Of course I noticed, I just think it’s stupid._ ”  

Actually, he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t been able to see enough to bother paying attention when he was trapped in the ankh full time, and when he’d known Marik before…. well, there had been other priorities at the time. He hadn’t had time to notice weird eating habits when there was revenge to focus on. He wondered how many other little details he would have been expected to notice. The thought made him uncomfortable.   

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have to eat it.” Marik scooped himself a serving and made a show of savouring it as though it was the tastiest thing in the world. Bakura rolled his eyes. Ishtars could be so annoying sometimes.   

* * *

 

Marik had enjoyed watching the thief squirm uncomfortably as he ate. Served him right. If the spirit had been able to eat, he’d have made him try some just to watch the reaction. That would probably have been good for a laugh. Bakura might not have noticed Marik’s eating habits, but Marik had certainly noticed the spirit’s, back in Battle City. The way he’d eaten meat, he could probably use a few veggie alternatives.   

Marik was just starting the dishes when his phone rang. “Maybe that’s Ryou calling again, to make sure we haven’t killed each other yet.” He chuckled at Bakura’s disgruntled expression. Once his hands were dry he reached for the phone, and immediately felt the blood drain from his face when he saw the caller ID. “Oh shit.” He ignored Bakura’s questioning look and quickly swiped to answer.   

“Hello, sister.” He noticed that Bakura took that as his cue to leave, and was quietly grateful for the privacy. This was going to be interesting.   

“Marik, where have you been? I was expecting you to call days ago!”  

Marik winced. “Yes, I know. Things have taken a few unexpected turns recently. I forgot.”  

“Are you alright?” Isis’ voice had taken on a worried tone. 

“Yes, I’m fine. I promise. It’s just been really busy.”  

“What’s going on?”  

Marik shot a look at the ghost currently snooping through his meagre collection of video games. “It’s kind of hard to explain.”  

“Try.”  

Marik hated that Isis had mastered the ‘big sister voice’. He especially hated how well it usually worked. “Well…”, Marik sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It started with Ryou casting a spell he probably shouldn’t have…”  

Isis stayed remarkably silent while he explained inheriting another possessed golden trinket, and subsequently casting a second spell to bring the former spirit of the ring back to a state like he’d had in Battle City. “…and now I guess we’re going to work on getting him to the afterlife or whatever, but I haven’t really done any research on how we’re going to actually do that.”  

Marik listened anxiously to the silence on the other end of the phone. After a long pause, Isis finally spoke. “I’ll do what I can to find a way to banish the ring spirit.” She paused, and Marik opened his mouth to reply, but found he really wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Isis continued before he could figure it out. “Marik. It sounds like you have him fairly well under control, but don’t forget who he is. He housed the great evil the pharaoh fought – you don’t know what he might be capable of, even without the ring.”  

Marik turned his gaze back towards the spirit, only to find him trying to gather a whole armful of games at once. It wasn’t going well. They continued to phase right through his arms whenever he lost concentration. It looked like he was a ways away from playing anything yet. Tou seemed to be enjoying his wild flailing, at least. Marik suppressed a snort and rolled his eyes.   

“I think we’ll be fine, sister. He’s been very well behaved.”  

“Nonetheless, be cautious. He’s surely going to want more from you than a simple spell before you’re through. Watch him carefully. I’ll get back to you as soon as I find a suitable spell to be rid of him.”  

Marik watched as Bakura gave up on the games only to childishly stick his tongue out at the cat. He felt a grin spread across his face. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Thank you, sister.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/) :)


	7. In which many games are played

Marik had finally decided he couldn’t delay researching spells for Bakura anymore. When he had told Bakura that Isis was helping, the thief had been skeptical at first, but it didn’t take long for him to get excited about the prospect of another good source of ideas. His eager, hopeful face had finally pushed Marik to action.   

Marik didn’t have easy access to any of the materials from the tombs, and he had no interest in getting any now that Isis was on the case. He also didn’t want to fill his living room with weird books like Ryou had, so that left him with Google. So far, he’d found a post about how to make Gatorade into a ‘magic’ sparkly potion, several articles about the best herbs for the modern witch to plant in her garden, and a bunch of advertisements for novelty Ouija boards or very obviously fake online psychics.   

Needless to say, it wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped.   

He was kind of glad when his phone chimed with an incoming call. He barely bothered glancing at the screen before answering. After the long talk with Isis last night, there was really only one person it could be.   

“Hello, brother.”  

“Marik.”  

“You’ve talked to Isis then, huh.”  

“I have. It seems you’ve found yourself in another complicated situation.”  

“I guess so… but it’s Ryou’s fault.”  

“And yet you’ve allowed yourself to become involved.”  

Marik sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Yes, but how could I not? He’s still a person. Or at least he was, once. And no one deserves to be trapped like that forever, even him. Don’t I kind of have to help?” Marik paused and sighed again. “And besides, leaving him would probably end up feeling like a leftover bit of our old duties hanging overhead. Who needs that, right?” Marik chuckled a little self-consciously.   

Rishid hmm’d over the line. “Be that as it may, be cautious of how attached you get. I know you found him…. intriguing, in Battle City.”  

Marik could swear he had _heard_ the smirk. He gaped silently at the phone for a couple of seconds before he could find words again. “You’re not supposed to know about that.”  

“Brother’s privilege, I suppose.”   

“But… I mean, _I_ barely knew.”   

Rishid chuckled. “Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else noticed.”  

“Good. I don’t think Isis would have been so understanding otherwise. She didn’t sound very comfortable with me watching over him as it is.”  

“I’m not surprised. But if you ever do need to have that particular conversation, I’ll be sure to help you ease the blow.”  

Marik smiled into the phone. He knew he could always count on his brother, but it never stopped warming his heart to hear it confirmed. “I don’t think you have to worry, he’s not even really the same spirit anymore. In Battle City he looked like Ryou and mostly ran around being angry with me, I guess? Now, he’s different. He just wants to go home. And he looks totally different, too. He’s so much shorter, and Ryou never had muscles like that. He actually looks Egyptian now too, which makes sense, really, for who he was supposed to be in the past. He’s still got the pale hair, though, so maybe a little of Ryou did rub off on him, even in this form….” Marik trailed off rather awkwardly as he realized how much he was talking. There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“How…detailed.”  

“……shut up, Rishid.” Marik groaned.   

Rished chuckled again. It was a comforting sound, even when he was being obnoxious. “Just be careful. You’ve worked hard to become who you are. Don’t lose yourself in something if it’s not meant to last.”  

* * *

   

What felt like another eternity of research later, the closest thing to useful information he’d managed to unearth was a handful of sites about old-fashioned exorcisms. Marik ran a hand down his face and tipped back in his chair. This was exhausting. Of course, Bakura chose that moment to wander into the room and make a nuisance of himself.   

“ _You look like you’re having a shitty day._ ”  

Marik cracked one eye open to glare at Bakura, who looked far too cheerful. “It’s your damn fault.”  Marik groaned tiredly. “The internet is useless.”

Bakura crossed his arms and scoffed. “ _I didn’t make the internet into the disaster it is. Blame Kaiba or something._ ”  

“Sounds good to me.” Marik grinned as he planted his chair back on the ground.

Bakura peered over Marik’s shoulder at the computer screen. “ _What are you trying to do, anyways?”_   

“I was trying to find information about sending souls away.”  

Bakura raised an eyebrow. “ _Wow, you’re actually doing some work on this. I was beginning to think you wanted me around forever.”_ Bakura leaned on the desk and gave Marik a crooked grin, which was way more distracting than it had any right to be.  

“Don’t push it. I found some sites about how to perform exorcisms, and they didn’t sound like they’d be very pleasant for you.”  

“ _Psh, whatever. You definitely want me around. It took Ryou about ten seconds to find a spell to get me this far, how hard can it be? You should know a perfect spell off by heart with all your pharaoh-worshiping nonsense._ ”  

Marik snorted. “We weren’t exactly focused on helping the pharaoh’s rival through the gates, you know.”  

Bakura let it drop, but stayed leaning against the desk for a long moment. Then he out a theatrically loud sigh, and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling. “ _I’m bored._ ”  

“That’s nice.”  

Bakura turned around to lean towards Marik. “ _Entertain me._ ”  

“And how am I supposed to do that?”  

“ _We could play Duel Monsters._ ”  

Marik found himself hesitating. As much as he didn’t share Isis’ concerns, Duel Monsters still seemed like something that could end up going very wrong. His brief pause was clearly too long for Bakura’s limited patience, because he interrupted his thoughts.   

“ _C’mon, Marik, loan me some cards. I promise no shadow games in your living room. It’s not like we have the Items anymore, anyways.”_ When Marik didn’t reply right away, he pouted. “ _I’m booored.”_ He looked about ten seconds away from batting his eyelashes. Marik wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle that. 

Marik made a snap decision. “Ok, fine. This wasn’t getting anywhere, anyways.” He closed off the web browser with more than a little relief. “I’m sure I’ve still got enough cards to put together a couple of decks. Let’s see what we can do.”  

* * *

 

Bakura frowned at his cards. Useless, stupid cards. He prodded at one of them, as though he could encourage it to become a useful spell. It didn’t work.   

His cards were held up between a couple of thin books on the table. They’d discovered pretty quickly that holding all the cards needed to create and use a deck was beyond his current abilities, and put together a system so he only had to move one thing at a time. When Marik made a joke about little old men needing card holders, he also discovered that his one thing could be moved fast enough to throw at Marik’s smug face. He hoped the bastard bruised.   

Bakura squinted at his cards. Dammit, there was no way to make these useful. Marik must have noticed his frustration, because he sent a wicked grin his way. “Ready to give up?”  

“ _Fuck you, I don’t give up._ ” He slapped a card down in defence position.   

“That’s it?”  

“ _Shut up._ ”  

“That’s the third duel in a row. I remember you being better at this.”  

“ _Shut UP._ ”

Marik laughed. It didn’t take long for the duel to wrap up from there. Stupid game. It was just because they weren’t Ryou’s cards, he was sure. He wasn’t familiar with these ones, otherwise he’d be kicking Ishtar ass right now. He crossed his arms in a huff as Marik gathered up their decks.    

“We should probably stop playing before you hurt yourself.”  

Bakura huffed in frustration, but it’s not like he could say that wasn’t a possibility, with his track record. He was saved from further mockery when Marik’s phone pinged several times in rapid succession. Marik grinned as he read the incoming texts.   

“They’re from Ryou. He wants to know how many things you’ve managed to destroy so far.” The phone pinged again. “And if I’ve shut you in a junk drawer permanently yet.”  

“ _Tell him to piss off.”_   

“I should tell him you tormented my cat.”  

Bakura’s eyes widened a little as he remembered Ryou’s probably-not-so-idle threat. “ _Please don’t._ ”  

“I should also tell him that you suck at Duel Monsters now.” Bakura watched Marik typing away as he spoke, but he couldn’t tell if he was actually saying any of that.   

“ _I hate you._ ”   

“No you don’t.”  

“ _Do too._ ”  

Marik rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe people were afraid of you. It’s just kind of sad.”  

Bakura crossed his arms and glared at the floor. “ _You’d fear me properly if I still had control of my shadow magic._ ”  

“Sure, sure.” Marik looked like he was only half-listening as he read more incoming texts. “Huh. Ryou’s invited us over.”  

“ _Did he find something useful?_ ”  

“I don’t think so.”  

“ _Then why the hell does he want us to come over?_ ”  

Marik looked at Bakura with a slightly bewildered look on his face. “Just to hang out.”  

Bakura raised an eyebrow. “ _I always knew there was something a little wrong with my host._ ”  

“I’m telling him you said that.” Marik grinned wickedly and started typing furiously.   

“ _Don’t you dare!_ ” He made a lunge for the phone, which Marik quickly held above his head. Bakura didn’t manage to knock it out of Marik’s hands, but Marik did stop typing. But then, most people would probably freeze if they ended up with their face halfway through a ghost’s chest. Shit. Bakura immediately sat further back and looked away out the window.   

“ _I didn’t mean to do that._ ”  

“Yeah, I…. I figured.” Marik’s voice sounded a little strained. “That felt….” Marik cleared his throat. “….interesting.”  

“ _Hmm._ ” Bakura really didn’t know what to say to that. When he turned back to Marik, his bangs were covering his face while he stared intently down at his phone.  

“Maybe we should go to Ryou’s. We can find out if he’s got any new information, and I really don’t want to do anymore research, and you probably shouldn’t play any more Duel Monsters because that’s just sad, so it seems like a good idea.”  

Bakura blinked. It sounded almost like Marik was rambling. The hell was he rambling for? Falling through his chest must have actually scared him. What the fuck. He nodded when Marik peeked up at him for an answer.   

“Ok, I’ll tell him we’re on the way over.”  

* * *

 

Ryou greeted them at the door, as usual, and beamed at them as he ushered them inside. His host was weirdly happy to see them.   

“I see you’re both still in one piece, that’s good. And I haven’t seen any news stories about ghosts destroying cars, so that’s good too. Well done.”  

Marik gave Bakura a look. “Thanks?”  

“You’re very welcome.” Ryou smiled. “I don’t suppose you’ve found any useful information, either?”  

Marik shook his head, and Bakura took that as his cue to wander off and snoop around the room as he kept one ear on the conversation behind him. “Best I’ve found is a few webpages on performing exorcisms. I think it’ll take more than a sprinkling of holy water to get rid of this pest.”  

Bakura called back over his shoulder. “ _Damn right!_ ”  

Marik continued as though Bakura hadn’t made a sound. “But I did get a call from Isis and told her what was going on. She still has access to more of the old family texts, so she’s going to see what she can find.”  

“Oh! That might come in handy. I don’t have many practical books on Egyptian magic, myself. Maybe she can help point us in the right direction.” Ryou paused and show Marik a curious look. “I’m rather surprised she’d want to help at all, though.”  

Marik gave Ryou a rueful grin. “Anything to get rid of the pharaoh’s enemies.”  

“Oh, well I suppose there’s that.”   

Bakura had found himself gravitating to a set of shelves lined with Monster World figurines and props. He was a bit surprised that Ryou still had all this stuff. He was shifting things around looking for anything he recognized when Ryou appeared at his shoulder.   

“Don’t get any ideas involving souls, spirit.”  

“ _Hm. You’re no fun at all anymore, host._ ”  

“Stop calling me that, I’m not your host anymore.” Then Ryou giggled as though he’d made a great joke. “Well, maybe I am right this second, but only in the normal way.”  

Bakura just grunted as he poked at a tiny robed figure. There was a lot of intricate detailing on the little red cloak. Was that actually supposed to be…?  

“I hear you’re terrible at Duel Monsters now.”  

Bakura whirled on Ryou. He opened his mouth to argue, but didn’t get the chance.   

“I wonder if you’re terrible at this now, too.” Ryou was smirking. It was a strange expression to see on his face, but Bakura knew a challenge when he saw one. He smirked right back. It was odd to think the expressions didn’t quite match anymore.  

“ _You’ll regret wanting to find out, -host-._ ”  

“I highly doubt that.” Ryou was already scooping things up off the shelves. “Clear off a space on the table.”  

Bakura set to work methodically shifting books off a low table nearby. He’d only cleared a small space by the time Ryou reappeared with an armful of supplies.   

“Oh. I guess you can’t move things very well anymore, can you?” Ryou set his things down on the ground and helped shove things off the table more quickly. “How the mighty have fallen.”  

“ _You’re lucky I can’t possess you anymore, host._ ”  

Ryou shot the thief an unimpressed look. “Ok, spirit, here’s a deal for you. If you can’t get through this mini-campaign in an hour flat, you have to stop calling me that.”  

“ _And if I can?_ ”  

“If you can, um….” Ryou pondered this for a few moments. “we’ll figure something out. You won’t manage it, though, so we won’t have to worry about it.”  

“ _It’s a bad plan to leave it up to me, -host-._ ”  

Ryou shrugged. “Your skill for making bad plans must have rubbed off on me.” He had the nerve to giggle at Bakura’s glare.   

“ _When I win, you’re going to wish you hadn’t said that._ ”  

“I’m sure.” Ryou scooped a pile of supplies on to the table and started setting up his campaign. Bakura looked up from the table and noticed Marik watching from a distance.   

“ _Well? What are you waiting for?”_   

“I’m not sure I want to go down in flames with you again.” Marik crossed his arms and quirked his lips.  

“ _Shut the hell up and get over here._ ”  

Ryou looked up and smiled encouragingly. “It really is more fun with more people, you know.” And then his grin took on a mischievous gleam. “And Bakura needs all the help he can get.”   

Bakura gave Ryou a deeply offended look and started arguing furiously as Marik laughed and sat down. These people had no respect for his talents. When it became obvious that Ryou wasn’t going to give him the respect he deserved until he beat his stupid game, he snatched up a character sheet with a growl.   

“ _Fine then, let’s see how you feel in an hour._ ”  

* * *

 

It turned out that his hos-…that Ryou…would feel pretty damn good after a couple of hours. Marik had picked up the rules of the game quickly and proven a useful ally, but there had been no stopping Ryou’s onslaught once he got going. Bakura could admit to himself that he’d been impressed by Ryou’s viciousness, but Ryou could never know that.    

“ _I’m just out of practice._ ”  

Ryou nodded mock-consolingly. “I’m sure.”  

“You also rolled like shit. Seriously, how hard it is to take out a low-level ghoul?”  

Ryou laughed. “If you’re Bakura, extremely.”  

“Almost as hard as drawing a useful Duel Monsters card, I guess.” Marik’s grin was obnoxious. Brat.

“ _That was just because of your crappy cards. If I’d known what I was using, I’d have creamed you._ ”  Bakura huffed and crossed his arms.

Ryou perked up. “Well if that’s all it takes, you can borrow my deck for a bit and see how you do. I don’t really play much anymore, anyways.” Bakura felt a burst of eagerness at the idea, until Marik had to go and open his stupid mouth.

“It would be nice to give him a fighting chance, I guess.” 

Bakura scowled again. “ _I hate you both._ ”  

“No, you don’t.” It was disgusting that those two spoke in cutesy unison. Assholes, the both of them.

Bakura watched Ryou scamper away to fetch his cards, and found his mind already drifting towards familiar strategies in anticipation of getting his hands on their cards again. He was pulled from his thoughts when Marik waved a hand in front of his face.   

“Admit it, you had fun.”  

“ _I admit nothing._ ” But he could feel the little grin pulling at the side of his mouth as Ryou burst back into the room, and was pretty sure Marik could see it.   

“There. Now you can try to redeem yourself, if you’re lucky.” Ryou held up a belt with a couple of slots, one of which contained a familiar deck.  

Bakura carefully took the belt and was pleased when it held in his hands more easily than it would have even the day before. “ _I’ll put these to good use._ ” He looked up. “ _Ryou_.” The wide smile he got in return practically shone. What a strange boy he’d been linked with.   

Marik stretched. “It’s late. Thank you for this, Ryou, but we should get going.”  

“Of course. I’m glad you came! I haven’t played Monster World in ages. No one really wants to play anymore, for some strange reason.”  

Bakura chose that moment to be very interested in carefully thumbing through the deck Ryou had lent him.   

Marik grabbed his coat. “C’mon, Bakura. You can try to figure out a way to beat me later.” Bakura mumbled a quick goodbye as Marik took the cards to put in his side bag for the ride home. Just as they were about to head out the door, Bakura spotted a little row of paints. They were probably for figurines, but one of them was red, and he hadn’t earned the title Thief King for nothing. As Ryou and Marik said their goodbyes, he quietly lifted the little jar of paint and slipped it into a spare compartment on the belt. He was really only grabbing it for selfish reasons. Maybe Marik would stop being a little shit if he had the paint for his bike, after all.  

If Ryou saw something, he didn’t say a thing.   

* * *

 

 It was dark out. The dark wasn’t as comforting as it once had been, and he’d just as soon be done with it. Sadly, Bakura had discovered that he couldn’t sleep away the hours anymore, even after being partly freed from his little golden prison. He was really, really tired of little golden prisons.      

Bakura stared around the room. He was bored. The cat was actually asleep for once, so he couldn’t enjoy pissing it off. The little beast was starting to develop a resistance to his little games, which made them all the more fun. It wasn’t worth waking it, that would just end with an extra-bitchy cat and an extra-bitchy Ishtar.   

He’d already thoroughly snooped around Marik’s home. That hadn’t been as interesting as he’d hoped. It was a wonder the boy wasn’t bored out of his skull or dead of malnutrition. Who doesn’t eat steak?! Even the cat ate meat. He supposed it had to have at least one good trait, and that was it.   

He’d also been quietly working on his sleight of hand by moving objects around. He was getting better, but he didn’t think he could manage to play any of the video games that were actually worth playing just yet. Maybe with a few more days of practice. And duel monsters needed a partner to play. He couldn’t read and didn’t care to learn.    

He was so fucking _bored_.       

He thought back to the afternoon, playing Monster World with Ryou and Marik. That had actually been kind of fun. There were always new props and characters to make for that game… maybe he could convince Marik to get some supplies for him to use overnight? If he said no, he could just be a pain in the ass all night until he got what he wanted.    

 Bakura headed down the hallway. He didn’t know what time it was, but Marik could deal with it just this once. As he approached Marik’s bedroom door he heard a soft sound. He froze and listened more carefully. That sounded like a moan. Bakura scowled at the thought of Marik hurting. Marik had done enough to help him that he wasn’t going to let that stand. He didn’t bother to try to open the door, that would take too long. Bakura just phased right through it, and then promptly froze on the spot.    

Marik was not in pain. He was very definitely not in pain. Holy _shit._   

His blond hair was spread haphazardly across the pillow as he let out another soft moan. He was completely naked, spread out across the bedsheets like a gift. Bakura’s wide eyes trailed quickly up and down the toned flesh on display, and then fell to rest on the delicate fingers wrapped around his hard cock.

He watched as Marik’s hand lazily trailed up and down. He watched as Marik’s breathing quickened and his head lolled to the side. He watched as Marik gave a tiny grunt and moved his hand faster. Watched as Marik’s breath hitched and his face scrunched up. Watched as Marik came, leaving streaks of white across his tan stomach. Watched as the last trembles subsided and Marik’s body started to relax.  

And then Bakura bolted the hell out of there before Marik could manage to open his eyes and catch him gaping at him like an idiot.  

As a disembodied spirit, Bakura didn’t really need support to stand, but he collapsed against the wall anyways. Holy _shit._ That had been… Marik was… he took a deep breath and tried to kick his brain back into gear. That had looked like something he wouldn’t mind helping with next time, that’s what. He wasn’t blind. He just hadn’t really considered the possibilities. Stupid. After all, he might be going home soon if he had his way, but there was no reason he couldn’t have a little fun on the way out, right?  

Bakura stood up properly, ready to leave Marik to his afterglow and start some plans of his own. As he did, he noticed something felt a little off. He looked down his chest toward his shenti, and blinked.  

  _….huh._   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: "In which Bakura finally gets hit with a clue-by-four". ;)
> 
> Yes, the Gatorade potion is a real thing: [ Gatorade potion link ](http://savannahfaerie.tumblr.com/post/172898140852/non-alcoholic-cool-potion-recipe-1-bottle-of-ur)
> 
> My [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/) also still exists, despite their idiocy and for lack of a better option at the moment.


	8. In which there are some interesting developments

Marik blinked awake slowly the next morning, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine on his face and the opportunity to sleep in late. He felt his mind drift back to the day before, and smiled.   

Playing Monster World with the two of them had been an experience. He hadn’t realized that there was much to hold Bakura and Ryou together without the Millennium Ring forcing the issue. Well, other than Ryou’s kindness and morbid curiosity, he supposed. But watching them sass at each other and argue over whether “ _kiss my ass_ ” was a valid spell name had made them seem almost like friends. And Bakura had looked downright happy, when he wasn’t getting his sorry ass kicked. Marik felt his chest warm at the thought. He could imagine a future like that, the three of them playing games and arguing back and forth just for the sake of it. No magic, no cursed gold, no age-old vendettas. It was a nice thought.   

His smile dropped a bit as he forced himself to refocus on the end goal here. Bakura was leaving, sooner rather than later if they could manage it. As pleasant as the thought of some nebulous future together was, he really shouldn’t let himself linger on those thoughts. It was nice to collect a few happy memories on the way by, but he had to remember they were _only_ on the way by. Wishing differently didn’t change anything.   

He stretched out his back with a little wince. He was debating between shirts for the day when the smoke detector suddenly let out an angry wail. Marik cursed and dropped them on the floor as he bolted out of the room, yelling as he went.   

“Bakura? What’s going on? Is everything OK?”  

There was a beat of silence before Bakura replied. “ _Your toaster is stupid._ ”  

“My toaster is….?” Marik skidded into the kitchen and clapped a hand over his mouth and nose. The room was filled with a thin layer of smoke, which appeared to be wafting out of the toaster. What the actual fuck. “What the hell happened?”  

“ _Toast happened. It’s very well-done._ ”  

“What the hell are you trying to make toast for?” Marik reached over to unplug the toaster. He upended it over the sink, which dislodged two squares of porous charcoal that might have been bread at some point in their lives. He eyed the mess in the sink critically. “I think you killed them.” He heard a derisive snort at his comment.  

Marik quickly grabbed a chair to turn the smoke alarm off. He glanced across the room and saw Bakura slouching sullenly against the counter, looking away. As he took in the rest of the room, he noticed that there was a pan on the stove and a couple of spreads on the counter, as well. He turned to look at Bakura full-on and quirked an eyebrow. “Were you trying to make breakfast?”  

Bakura just huffed and turned his head further away.  

“Hold on, are you _blushing_? Do ghosts blush? This I gotta see, come here.”  

Bakura tried to wave Marik away. “ _I am not doing a th-…_ ”  

“Oh my gods, you _are!_ ” Marik was positively delighted by the rose tint he could spot across Bakura’s scarred cheek. He laughed. “Was the big bad toaster mean to you? Did you only roll a three on cooking skills or something?”  

“ _Shut UP._ ”  

“That’s adorable.”  

“ _I’m not adorable. If this is the thanks I get for trying to do something nice for once, then-”_

Marik waved a hand in front of Bakura’s face to stop him walking out of the kitchen in a huff. “Wait, wait. Sorry, this is actually really sweet of you. I just don’t know why you bothered. I mean, you don’t eat, so…”  

Bakura just shrugged and looked like he was trying not to look too uncomfortable. “ _Just trying to pay rent, I guess. Old habits die hard._ ”  

Marik smiled at Bakura. He wished for a moment that he could lay a hand on his arm to show his sincerity, but shook the feeling off. “You don’t owe me anything for this. I appreciate the thought, though. Really.”   

He felt a familiar soft brush against his legs and bent down to scoop Tou up to his chest. “Did the alarm scare you, Tou? Poor boy.” He carted the cat towards his food dish. “I guess we can get you some food at the very least.” Marik was just about to open the cupboard when he noticed the bowl was already half-full. He glanced back over his shoulder at Bakura. “Did you feed my cat?”  

“ _Well, at least someone got a breakfast out of this mess._ ”  

Marik couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face as he set Tou back down at his bowl to finish. He quickly squashed a strange urge to kiss the scar on Bakura’s cheek, before he ended up blushing too. “Thanks for that. I’m sure Tou is grateful too.”  

“ _He didn’t glare at me as much as usual, anyways. Little bastard probably knew I’d take the food away again if he did._ ”  

“Probably.” Marik coughed a little and crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about his bare chest. “I should probably finish getting dressed and sort out breakfast.”  

“ _Do you have to?_ ”  

Marik wilfully ignored Bakura’s smirk, because it didn’t mean anything. “Breakfast is usually a good idea, yes. I’ll be back in a minute.”   

He fled the kitchen and grabbed the first shirt he could find. He dressed in a hurry, trying very hard not to think about Bakura doing nice things and trying to get along with Tou for his benefit. Making up fantasies in his head hadn’t helped much in his life up to now, and it wouldn’t do much for this situation. He took a deep, grounding breath and walked back into the kitchen, only to find Bakura carefully manoeuvring the remains of his toast into an over-full garbage can. Marik shoved down the butterflies in his stomach, because Bakura was just getting rid of trash. There was nothing sweet about that. Come on.   

“Let me help with that.” Marik pushed the garbage down with a grimace and tied off the bag. “Well, that’s disgusting. I don’t usually let it get that bad.”  

“ _I guess you’ve been distracted lately._ ”  

“I guess.” He lifted the bag by the ties. “Be back in a minute.”  

Marik made short work of dumping the trash in the big bin in the garage. He was about to head back indoors, when a glint of colour on one of the shelves caught his eye.

Curious, he reached forward and carefully lifted up a tiny jar of red paint, that had apparently been half-hidden on his junk shelf. He could only think of one reason for red paint to suddenly appear like this. But it couldn’t possibly be what it looked like, could it? The butterflies were suddenly back with a vengeance, and he pulled out his phone to send off a quick text.   

_To: Ryou Bakura: Did you slip me some paint when we were over there?_   

The reply was almost immediate.   

_From: Ryou Bakura: *I* didn’t._   

Marik was grinning at his phone like an idiot, and he quickly shook it off in an effort to kick his brain back into gear. Bakura probably just felt guilty about damaging the bike, that’s all. He’d managed to get almost exactly the right shade of red, which was impressive… too bad the paint was completely the wrong type to use. Still, it was a nice thought. When the hell did he sneak that in, anyways? Marik shook his head with a smile as he tucked his phone back in his pocket, and went back indoors. Hopefully Bakura hadn’t started on round two of breakfast.   

He hadn’t. What he had started to do, was carefully arrange the fridge magnets into a series of misshapen dicks. Marik snorted.

“First a burnt breakfast, now dick art? How lucky can I get?”  

_“Very lucky, if you play your cards right._ ” Bakura had the nerve to send Marik a wicked grin. The last couple of butterflies he just couldn’t get rid of fluttered their wings hopefully, but Marik shushed them.    

“Uh-huh, sure.” Marik looked around the mess of the kitchen, and decided he just didn’t want to deal with it today. “I’m going to go get breakfast. Since it looks like you’re going to destroy things or vandalize the place unless you get your walkies, you better come too.”  

The thief curled his lip in a snarl. “ _Fuck you, I’m not some dog._ ”  

Marik just rolled his eyes. “You coming or not?” He mindlessly fingered the pendant as he spoke.   

“ _Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Wherever you’re going has got to be more interesting than a staring contest with your furry little demon._ ”  

“You like him.”  

“ _I tolerate him._ ”  

Marik could feel Bakura’s presence at his back as he opened the door to the garage, and gestured towards the shelf with the paint. “By the way, thanks for that.”  

“ _Thanks for what, I didn’t do anything. Slander and lies._ ” Bakura vanished in to the ankh before Marik could reply, but not before he caught a small smile on the thief’s face.   

* * *

 

Marik took them to the little café nearby with good takeout. He figured Bakura would get into less trouble if he just grabbed something to go.

Really, he should have known that the thief would take any opportunity to cause problems while he couldn’t yell at him for it, even if he only had a few minutes.    

Marik tried hard to keep a straight face as Bakura wove his way between tables of oblivious patrons, subtly moving their items around while they weren’t looking. That was the third time the sleazy-looking guy in the corner had tried to pick up his glass and missed. At least the girl he was with looked like she was having a better time since Bakura got involved. More than one person was wondering why their coffee still wasn’t sweet, because surely the little empty packets on the table meant they had added the sugar already out of habit, even though they didn’t remember doing it? And that girl in the corner who left her purse wide open was going to have a hell of a time finding anything in it, once Bakura finished moving everything around. Marik was just grateful that the thief couldn’t hide anything away in his pockets.    

Marik got to the front of the line and schooled his face into his best Namu mask. Bakura, naturally, made ordering as difficult as possible by hopping up on the counter and making a ridiculous series of faces as he spoke. Asshole.    

He somehow managed to get hold of his caffeine and a breakfast roll without too many people thinking he was out of his mind, no thanks to his invisible companion. Marik led the way to a bench in a nearby park and sat down with a sigh.

“You’re such a child.”   

“ _It’s part of my charm_.” Bakura grinned wickedly. “ _Besides, I’m supposed to get in trouble if I’m in one place too long, you said so yourself_.”   

“Trust me, you don’t have to make any special effort to be annoying.”   

Bakura put a hand to his chest as though deeply offended. “ _How dare you suggest that I am anything but a model citizen_.”   

Marik snorted into his coffee, and spotted a young couple nearby giving him weird looks. He gave them a polite wave that he hoped translated nicely into ‘fuck right off, mind your own business’.    

“ _They probably think you’re completely insane, sitting here talking to yourself._ ”   

“Either that, or that I’m on a bluetooth and just having a really weird conversation. Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s thought I’m still crazy though, so I don’t really care what they think.”    

“ _And you shouldn’t. Fuck ‘em._ ” Bakura gave him a wide grin, and Marik returned it before turning his attention to his breakfast.

Bakura gave the roll a slightly repulsed look as it was unwrapped.

“ _How can you survive without bacon?”_   

“Perfectly fine, thanks.”  

“ _That’s your real insanity. Bacon is one of the best inventions of the modern world._ ”  

Marik just rolled his eyes as he took a bite. “It’s a good thing you can’t eat for yourself, or you’d have a pot belly in no time.”  

 “ _Hmm, I suppose it would be a shame to deprive you of this.”_ Bakura sent a wicked grin Marik’s way and ran a hand up and down his torso. “ _But some sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”_   

Marik rolled his eyes as dramatically. This helped both show his annoyance and make sure he didn’t stare too obviously at the chest on display. Did the thief really have to do that? It was definitely time for a change in conversation, before things got awkward.   

“Wanna go for a ride around town for a bit before going home?” Bakura just raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Wait, can you see anything when you’re hiding in the ankh to ride?”  

_“Yes. But why would I want to ride around?_ ”  

Marik shrugged. “To see the town?” Bakura added crossed arms to his raised eyebrow, and Marik huffed. “As a good excuse to not go home and get bored while I completely fail to find useful spells online?”  

That got a bark of laughter. “ _Now, that makes sense. Hurry up and eat your stupid vegetable thing and let’s go._ ”  

* * *

   

Bakura sat silently in the ankh as Marik leaned the bike around another corner. They had spent the whole day riding around town, visiting both familiar places and exploring things that had changed since Bakura last roamed the streets in Ryou’s body. They’d even spent a good couple of hours in the arcade, where Bakura had delighted in shouting advice to Marik as he played for them. Most of his advice was even supposed to be helpful, though sometimes he’d just wanted to make their little avatar explode into pixelated gore. Bakura didn’t think he’d spent that much time smiling in a long time. It had been… nice. A good way to spend one of his last days, really.   

Bakura hadn’t planned to focus much on the world he was living in since his arrival in the ankh, even once he was anchored more firmly to the living realm and could actually see it. There just hadn’t seemed to be much point. The plan was to escape misery in the shadows, tolerate misery in the real world for a while, and then finally, finally go home and see if his family was waiting for him. They had better be. But he’d still found himself enjoying his time in Domino despite himself. There goes another plan up in smoke. 

As the bike slowed, Bakura saw that they had finally found themselves down by the pier, which he supposed was inevitable. Bakura rematerialized as soon as the bike stopped.    

“ _Interesting choice._ ”  

Marik shrugged a little. “The sunset looks nice over the water.”  

“ _Hn._ ” Bakura crossed his arms and looked out towards the setting sun. Marik wasn’t wrong. The colours flashing in the water were nice enough to look at. When Marik walked out further on to the pier to admire the view himself, though, the view got a whole lot better.   

Marik was a vision in the setting sun. Hell, he’d always been a vision if Bakura were to be honest with himself, but since last night he’d really been making a point of looking. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to not notice earlier. His blond hair shifted in the breeze and gleamed like the waves beyond him, and his earrings flashed in the low light. Bakura watched as Marik closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the salty air. His skin glowed in the orange light, and Bakura wished he could feel for himself if it was as warm as it looked.   

Bakura gazed down at his own translucent form. He turned over his hands in the light and stretched his body back and forth, trying and failing to catch a glint of light on his skin. He brushed a hand over his chest where the ring had once lain, and imagined how it would glint in the light and slide on his skin. His chest felt empty without it.

With a sigh he looked back up, only to catch Marik’s violet eyes staring back at him with a rapt expression for a fraction of a second. Marik hurriedly looked back towards the sun and cleared his throat. How... interesting. Bakura felt a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth as Marik opened his mouth to speak. 

“It’s gonna be dark out soon. We should head home before Tou thinks we’ve vanished permanently.”  

“ _It’s always about the damn cat with you, isn’t it?_ ” Bakura let the smirk linger on his mouth as Marik walked back toward him and the bike. Marik was still acting suspiciously interested in anything other than Bakura. How had he not _noticed_ this?  

He waited until Marik was looking down at his helmet before sneaking up behind him as closely he could without falling right through him. He leaned forward along Marik’s back and raised a hand as though to touch his shoulder, and delighted when Marik shivered like he could actually feel his hot breath along the back of neck. He paused for just a moment to revel in the reaction before murmuring softly into Marik’s ear.   

“ _By the way, I caught you looking._ ” He couldn’t help his wide grin, and vanished away into the little ankh as soon as Marik whipped his head around with a scandalized look. _Gotcha._   

* * *

 

Marik had gaped at the open air for a few minutes, but he must have decided to pretend that nothing notable had happened, because he got right onto the bike and drove them home. Bakura had no intention of letting his little charade last though. Not when the attention he wanted looked like it was so much closer than he had thought.   

Once they arrived back at the house, Marik made good on his promise to go look after Tou the Terrible right away. Bakura barely had time to rematerialize himself before Marik was gone with a flick of golden hair. Well, now that just wouldn’t do.   

He followed Marik in to the house, and watched as Tou mewled piteously and rubbed the whole length of his body across Marik’s ankles. Clearly, he hadn’t been kidding that Tou would notice their absence. Or at least the absence of food. As soon as his dish was put down, the little beast attacked it so voraciously it started to skitter across the floor.  

“Tou, you’re not going to starve after one extra hour. Calm down before I end up having to clean up cat vomit again.”  

“ _Yeah, you better slow down, cat._ ” Bakura set his foot on the ground in front of the bowl, which stopped. Tou, of course, didn’t. He promptly overshot his bowl by passing right through Bakura’s foot and faceplanting on the tile, where he gave a highly disgruntled grumble. Bakura cackled, and scooted the dish around the floor for Tou to chase until he finally cornered it, and laid a fully-clawed paw through the middle of Bakura’s foot for good measure as he ate.   

Marik had been surprisingly silent during their little game, and when Bakura looked up at him with a grin he saw a contemplative look on his face.   

“I wonder why you can touch objects but not living things.”  

Bakura stepped away from Tou, who settled more protectively over his dish as he left. “ _Who says I can’t?_ ”  

“Every experience up until now?”  

“ _Well, we haven’t tried very hard, now have we?”_ Bakura’s gaze was intense as he stepped toward Marik, who didn’t let his gaze drop this time.   

“Bakura….”  

Bakura cut him off. “ _This could be very important information for any future spells, and I did agree to try to help, now didn’t I?_ ” He let Marik search his eyes for a moment, and he seemed to settle a bit as they gazed at each other.   

“Yeah, I suppose you did.”  

The thief approached Marik and lifted a hand toward his cheek. He paused for a moment, but Marik didn’t drop his gaze, so he gently brushed his fingers along his cheek. Really, he brushed his fingers slightly _through_ his cheek, and Marik gave an involuntary shiver and closed his eyes in response.   

“That feels so weird.”  

“ _What does it feel like?_ ” He watched Marik’s lavender eyes blink open again as he dropped his hand.  

“Like…..I don’t know. Kind of tingly. Like you’re made of little sparks or something.”  

“ _Does it hurt?_ ”  

“No. It feels…kind of nice, I guess. Does it hurt you?”  

“ _It doesn’t feel like much of anything to me.”_   

“That’s too bad.”  

“ _Yeah, I guess._ ” Bakura let his gaze wander over Marik’s form. “ _I can’t touch skin, but I bet I could touch clothes._ ” He reached out a hand and tugged on the hem of Marik’s shirt to demonstrate. “ _See? That could be a useful skill, don’t you think?”_ Bakura delighted at the blush that spread across Marik’s cheeks before continuing. “ _It looks like I’ll have to be a perfect gentleman and only touch you where you’re clothed, then._ ”   

He held his breath as he carefully laid a hand on Marik’s arm. He was thrilled when he made solid contact on the cloth barrier, and slowly ran his hand up to Marik’s shoulder before mirroring the motion with his other hand. He glanced up into Marik’s eyes. “ _And I might be able to move hair, too._ ” He carefully brushed his fingers through the strands hanging down around Marik’s shoulders, which gave way and wove sluggishly through his fingers. “ _There, see? Practice makes perfect._ ” He lifted his hand further and brushed blond bangs aside.   

“Maybe you’ll learn how to touch living things yet.” Marik sounded a little bit breathless as he spoke, and fluttered his hands uselessly, unable to reach out to Bakura and return the touch. “I’m sure you’re very eager to give Tou a proper cuddle, after all.”  

 Bakura didn’t have time to argue about the stupid cat just then. “ _Maybe I’ll learn. Or maybe this just works like those old fairy tales of Ryou’s._ ” Bakura took a half a step forward. “ _Doesn’t everything always get fixed with a kiss?_ ” He ran fingers through Marik’s hair again and tilted his chin up to meet Marik’s gaze.   

Marik stared back intently for a few endless moments, before breathing out a little rush of air and letting his eyes flutter shut as he leaned forward. Bakura felt a thrill when Marik’s whole form shivered as their lips met. Marik’s reaction more than made up for what he couldn’t experience, and he dragged his grinning lips along Marik’s mouth and cheek.   

He paused for a moment to brush the bangs that had fallen forward again out of Marik’s face, and to admire the way his eyelids fluttered and his breathing quickened. Oh, but he could certainly get used to that view. He leaned up again to see how many new shivers he could earn.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Can I get a "woot woot", or possibly an "about @#$% time?!") 
> 
> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/)


	9. In which plans suddenly start to solidify

Marik wasn’t quite sure what they were doing. Did brushing your lips through a ghost count as kissing? He felt another involuntary shiver run down his spine when Bakura leaned back in. Touching him felt like touching a thunderstorm sparking with electricity. He could so easily get used to this. What would it feel like to kiss him for real? He felt his stomach tighten at the thought as he imagined the solid press of lips on his. Every warning he’d heard and every effort he’d made not to get too attached to the spirit were being thoroughly and convincingly overruled by the flood of sensation Bakura brought with his touch.    

He felt a hand press at the small of his back, and wished desperately that he could touch Bakura back. All he could do was float his hands through his form, and feel the tingling along his skin. Marik gasped a little as a hand ran up his side, and let his head fall back at the sensation. The feel of Bakura nuzzling along his neck was almost more than he could handle, and he let out the tiniest of moans as he leaned further into the sensation, chasing a feeling of solidity he knew he wouldn’t find but that he had to instinctually seek anyhow...   

He had never hated his stupid fucking ringtone quite as much as he did right then. His eyes fluttered open and he gave a much different sort of groan.    

“ _Oh what the actual fuck, just ignore it._ ”   

“It’s Isis’s ringtone, she’ll just call back until I answer.”   

“ _Fuck her_.”   

“Please don’t.” Marik took a deep and steadying breath as he moved away from Bakura to answer the phone. The thief let him go, though he didn’t look very happy about it. “Hello, sister.” He really hoped he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt. They had gotten way too carried away.    

“Are you alright, Marik?” Well, fuck. So much for sounding normal. He dug deep to find whatever parts of his calm Namu façade he could.    

“I’m fine, why do you ask?”   

“You sound breathless. Are you sure you’re alright?”   

“Perfectly fine. I was just exercising.” He waved away Bakura’s snort. “Have you found some information for us?”   

“Perhaps.”   

“Ok hold on, I’ll put you on speakerphone so Bakura can hear too.”   

“Are you quite sure that’s wise, Marik?”   

Marik frowned, and tried to keep his voice light. “Why wouldn’t it be? He might be able to give us more information. He’s as eager to make this work as we are.” Actually, at this point Marik was sure Bakura was far more eager than him.     

“Very well.”   

“Good.” Marik pulled the phone from his ear and set it on the counter nearby as Bakura leaned in to listen. “So, what have you found?”    

“There is limited information about sending trapped spirits onwards. Generally, if a spirit was seen as worth saving, the proper rites were completed in the first place.”   

Bakura scoffed. “ _Helpful.”_ Marik shushed him as Isis continued.    

“It seems that the most relevant exception to that rule is for the Millennium Puzzle.” Marik and Bakura shared a look at that.    

“You mean the ceremonial duel for the pharaoh.”   

“Yes. That ritual was created specifically to allow his spirit to pass on after such a long delay. It’s the closest reference I can find for a spell of this kind that appears reliable. Of course, it was designed only for the pharaoh’s use. I doubt it could be used even if you wanted to do so.”   

“So basically, you’re saying we have nothing to go on yet.”   

“I’m saying that there is no real indication that we can be rid of a spirit like him, other than by simply banishing him to nothingness.”   

Bakura crossed his arms with a scowl. “ _Well isn’t she just a ray of fucking sunshine_.”   

Marik matched Bakura’s scowl with one of his own. He loved his sister, really he did. But to have her dismiss Bakura out of hand so very easily was just infuriating. She seemed far too eager to be done with this as quickly as possible, Bakura’s welfare be damned. He wasn’t terribly surprised, but that didn’t do much to stop the seething under his skin.  

Marik took a deep breath, but he didn’t manage to completely hide the edge in his voice. “Just so you know, sister, Bakura isn’t very impressed with your research, and neither am I.”    

A small breath of air came across the line. When Isis spoke again, her voice was softer. “Marik, I know you want to help the ring spirit if you can, and that’s very noble of you. But some spirits are just not meant to be saved in that way. He’s too far gone.”   

Marik bristled. “Well we’re going to find a way anyways, with or without help from the scriptures. If I can be saved, then so can he. Goodbye.” Marik jabbed his finger at the end call button and cut off whatever Isis was about to say next. He’d probably feel bad for upsetting her later, but right now he was too furious to care. Maybe he wasn’t eager to see Bakura gone so quickly, but hell if he wasn’t going to try anyways. He took another deep breath and gripped the counter before looking up again at Bakura, who wore an odd expression on his face. He didn’t have the energy to figure out what it meant.    

“Do you still want to be sent to the afterlife?”   

Bakura gave him a steady look. “ _Of course_.”   

“Well then why the fuck can’t you go out like a king, anyways. If the pharaoh’s ritual is the best we have, we’re damn well going to find a way to make it work.”   

Marik watched a grin spread across the spirit’s face. “ _Stealing the pharaoh’s things was always our specialty._ ”   

* * *

 

It took a surprisingly short time for Marik’s mood to shift from defiant to determined. Bakura was reminded of the cold, calculated planning Marik had been so fond of in their Battle City days. He leaned himself against the counter as he watched Marik pace the room, aggressively twisting the ends of his hair through his fingers. After a few minutes, he spoke up.  

“ _And how, exactly, are you planning to cast a spell based on the Millennium Items when they’re all gone?_ ”  

Marik continued to pace as he replied. “Well, what if we didn’t need the items? I mean, the pharaoh’s spell needed all the items to be returned to their resting place, true, but at that point everything was wrapped up in their existence. When Ryou brought you back, you just showed up in this little ankh. Maybe that’s all we’d need.”  

“ _Ah, thousands of years of experience and dark arts reduced to a crappy gift store trinket. How lovely for me._ ”  

“You’re so fucking helpful I could choke you right now.”  

“ _Marik._ ”  

Marik’s pacing paused as he glared over at Bakura, who crossed his arms and met Marik’s scowl with one of his own. “ _Calm the fuck down._ ”  

“I am calm!”  

Bakura raised an eyebrow.   

“Calm-ish.”  

Bakura gave Marik a deadpan look.   

“Oh, fuck right off.”  

The spirit huffed. “ _I’ve waited this long. We can take longer than thirty seconds to figure out how to force a pharaoh’s spell to work for an unwanted thief. At least we have a lead now._ ” Bakura stepped towards Marik and ran a hand down his arm, and then along the back of his hand. “ _We’ll figure it out._ ” Ah, at least he could still get a shiver. Good. Marik looked a little calmer, too. “ _There. Better?_ ”  

“I guess. I’m just pissed that she’s so ready to toss you away.”  

“ _Most people would be on her side there._ ”  

“Well, I’m not.” Marik met the thief’s eyes, and Bakura found himself leaning into their intensity only to have Marik lean away. “We probably shouldn’t do that again.”  

“ _Why the hell not? You had a good time. I had a good time. Where’s the problem there?_ ”  

“You’re leaving soon. That just complicates things.” Marik rubbed a hand along his arm. He looked surprisingly self-conscious. 

“ _Yeah, I may not be here for much longer, but why can’t we have some fun while it lasts?_ ” Bakura met Marik’s gaze challengingly until Marik broke the connection by rolling his eyes.   

“You’re insufferable.”  

“ _Also part of my charm._ ” Bakura leaned forward to leave a tingling trail along Marik’s lips just to prove a point, before giving Marik a challenging smirk. “ _Better. Now, we were at something, something, bullshit some shadow magic and screw the Pharaoh. What’s next?_ ”   

Marik let out a breathy little laugh and tipped his head back as he thought. “Well, the pharaoh’s spell needed four things in the end: the items, a name, the door, and a duel. We should be able to bullshit our way through those easily enough. We already have your little golden souvenir of a home, and I guess we can just put the necklace back on whatever Ryou used to cast the original spell.”   

 _“That’s still a hell of a difference from the Millennium Items.”_    

“Well yeah, I guess, but if you think about it…..” Marik was back to pacing, but he didn’t look like he was about to fly out of his own skin anymore so Bakura kept his mouth shut. “ _…_ if you think about it, all they really were is where the magic and the pharaoh’s spirit were bound. You’re not bound to the ring anymore, you’re in this.” Marik ran his fingers delicately along the pendant around his neck. “And we’re just trying to sneak one soul through the door, not save the whole world and banish a demon as well, so we don’t need the same amount of power. It’s at least worth a try.”   

“ _And if it there isn’t enough power to work with, we’d probably just end up standing around like idiots anyways.”_    

“That’s the spirit. And you’re already good at doing that, too.”   

Bakura took a swipe at Marik’s head, which was satisfying even if he knew he wouldn’t make contact. “ _Ass.”_    

“But apparently you like mine, so I’m taking that as a compliment.” Bakura rolled his eyes at Marik’s cheeky grin. “We need a name, too. Is it actually Bakura? I never really thought to ask.” Marik looked a little ashamed at the admission.  

“ _By the time I died…sort of died…whatever, Thief King Bakura was the only name that mattered to anyone anymore. It wouldn’t matter even if I did remember another one. No one casting these spells would have cared to link it in anyways._ ” Bakura looked up to see an odd expression on Marik’s face. “ _What?_ ”  

“Nothing. Just remembering how long you’ve been doing this, I guess.”  

“ _Hn. It’s been a while._ ” Bakura crossed his arms. “ _This plan of yours is great and all, but even if we do have the great power of the mystical gift store necklace, and the half-assed remains of a name, and I guess I have Ryou’s deck to duel with, how in Ammit’s shiny asshole are you planning to open a door to the afterlife?”_   

“Hell if I know. That’s why we have Ryou.” Marik pulled out his phone and started tapping away at a text. “If he broke into the shadow realm just for kicks, I wouldn’t be surprised if he can break into Aaru, too.”  

“ _As long as the pharaoh doesn’t pop out when he does._ ”  

“If he did, we’d just dump him at the game shop and wish Yugi luck. He’d probably be thrilled.”  

“ _Unless we kill him again._ ”  

“Isn’t the whole problem here that we don’t know how to kill a ghost?”  

“ _……point. I’d still give it a try._ ”  

“I’m sure.” Marik tucked his phone back into his pocket and yawned widely. “I’m exhausted, and my head is spinning. I’m gonna go collapse into bed.”  

Bakura felt a wide grin spread on his face. “ _Need some company?”_ Marik’s ridiculous gaping expression was so worth it. Bakura cut him off as he started trying to stutter out an answer. “ _I’m kidding. I don’t think you’d do well if you rolled over into a ghost halfway through the night. Ghosts don’t make good sleeping companions._ ”  

Marik gave him a calculating look. “What _do_ you do to sleep?”  

“ _I don’t._ ” Startled really was a good look on Marik. “ _I just snoop around the apartment or have nice, friendly visits with your demon cat._ ” Bakura shrugged, and quickly continued before Marik could ask any more questions about what he may do, or see, at night. “ _It’s still better than almost any other night for the last few eons._ ”  

“Do you at least want a movie or a game or something?”  

“ _I didn’t want to wake you up. And I’m not sure if I could handle the controllers well enough, anyways._ ”  

“I have headphones. They’re small enough that you should be able to use them OK without tiring out. At least then you could try.” Marik walked over to the entertainment centre and fished around for a minute before producing a set of earbuds on an over-long cord. “I assume you know where everything else is by now?” Bakura just grinned. “Do you know how to work this stuff?”  

“ _I picked up a few useful skills from Ryou while I was around._ ”  

“Good.” Bakura watched as Marik set the headphones and various remotes on the couch. “Knock yourself out. Try not to break anything.” He stood and walked back toward Bakura, and paused. “Goodnight.”  

Bakura leaned forward to brush his nose along Marik’s cheekbone. He didn’t think he’d ever stop smiling when Marik to shivered like that. He stood back so Marik could step around him towards the bedroom. “ _Goodnight._ ”  

* * *

 

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Marik’s body might have been exhausted, but his mind was spinning. He kept going back to the ritual. One moment he would almost feel convinced they were ready to give it a try the next morning. The next, the uncertainties and improvisations they would have to use made it feel like they’d never be able to attempt it. It was terrifyingly close and terrifyingly far away all at once, and it hurt his head to think about it.    

And then there was Bakura, and whatever _that_ all meant. On the one hand, there was a deep-down quiet part of him that had kind of wanted to know what that would feel like all the way back in Battle City. And, of course, there was the not-so-deep-down and definitely-not-quiet part of him that had _very much_ wanted to do something like that since the Thief King appeared in Ryou’s kitchen in all his glory. But Bakura was leaving. He’d always known that. So there wasn’t much point in getting excited about a relationship with his ancient Egyptian ghost of a roommate, if there ever would have been in such a ridiculous situation to begin with. And yet, he felt like kicking his feet like an excitable schoolgirl at the thought anyways.    

Marik pulled his pillow over his head with a grumbling sigh. Today must have lasted at least a week.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/) survived Ban Day, so can still find me there for now.


	10. In which life moves far too quickly for Marik's tastes

The next morning Marik woke up with the sun pounding on his eyelids. It was definitely later in the morning than he’d usually wake up. He supposed it was a good thing to sleep in after such trouble getting to sleep the night before, but at the moment he’d really have preferred Ra to piss off somewhere else for a bit. He groaned out his displeasure and stretched out his neck. Once he convinced his eyes to open, the blinking notification light on his phone caught his eye.   

 _From: Ryou Bakura: I should be able to open a portal to look in to Aaru somehow. But I don’t have a way to get Bakura through it safely…unless you do?_    

Marik wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel pleased or disappointed about that at this point, so he just shoved any and all emotions about it firmly down into a box to sort out later. He wasn’t awake enough to deal with this just yet. And if he waited long enough, it would all be moot anyways. Marik dragged on a shirt and set out to check on his… whatever Bakura was at this point.   

Marik rounded the corner into the living room, and found Bakura deeply involved in a game. He was muttering angrily at the screen as he jabbed his fingers at the controls. Marik had to marvel a bit at the turns his life had taken. Not many people could walk into a room, see a translucent man in an ancient Egyptian shenti trying to blow up pixelated zombies on a flatscreen, and not bat an eye.  

“Glad you kept yourself occupied.”  

Bakura didn’t react to the greeting beyond a grunt, which might have been directed at the game anyways. Marik grinned to himself and turned to walk to the kitchen.   

“Well, some of us need to eat, so I’ll leave you to the zombies for now.” There was another grunt from the couch. Great then.  

Marik set to the task of putting something together for breakfast. He’d just managed to get the first sips of coffee into his system, and was feeling slightly less like one of the zombies in Bakura’s game, when there was a shout from the other room.   

“ _Hey, I think your cat’s dying or something out here!_ ”  

Marik set the cup down on the counter and hurried over. Bakura had paused the game and was staring at Tou in a kind of confused horror. Tou, for his part, was standing near Bakura’s feet with his back arched up, making horrid retching noises as his body convulsed. Oh. Well then.   

“Oh, that’s not so bad. He’s just-”  

“ _OH, WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL.”_   

Tou had passed the hairball, and managed to eject it straight through the thief’s foot. He sat back and delicately licked a paw as Bakura raged, and Marik could have sworn the cat looked smug.   

“You know, I’m not surprised he aimed that at you.”  

“ _Your cat is a horrible vindictive little- oh for fuck’s sake I think there’s slime stuck to my sandal, how is that even possible._ ”  

Marik let out an amused snort. “It must be magical vindictive cat spit. Hang on, I’ll get a cloth or something to clean that up. Don’t you dare kick it around the room or do anything to Tou while I’m gone.”  

“ _Fine. I’ll have to wait until you’re asleep again to maim it._ ”  

Marik called over his shoulder as he turned in to the kitchen. “I’d still put my money on the cat!”   

“ _Fuck you too! Ugh, there’s no escaping this stuff, why can’t I……huh.”_   

Marik finished ringing out a rag. “’Huh’, what?”  

“ _I got rid of the mess on my shoe. Turns out I can take them off._ ”  

“Oh, and how did you figure that- ….oh.” Marik had come back into the room only to be greeted by the sight of Bakura’s naked ass. He blinked, and then put his hands on his hips. “Really?”  

Bakura shot a grin over his shoulder. “ _Yes really. I like this new trick. Do you like the view?”_ He lifted his arms up over his head and gave an exaggerated stretch for Marik’s benefit, flexing his muscles with what was probably supposed to be a sultry moan.    

Marik did enjoy the play of muscles his back, which he could now see was marked with scars as well. He let himself have a few seconds of ogling before he shook his head and cleared his throat. “It’s alright. Now put that thing away before you scare off the neighbourhood.”    

Bakura turned around to cross his arms and pout, and Marik quickly averted his gaze. There were things that needed to get done, and getting distracted by a naked thief was not going to help with that.   

“ _But I’m hot?_ ”  

“Maybe so, but you still need to put your clothes back on from wherever they are. You can’t wander around naked forever.”  

 _“So, you admit I’m hot then.”_    

Marik could hear the smirk in his voice and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I really I don’t want to deal with your naked ass and a slimy hairball at the same time.”  

“ _You could always leave the hairball._ ”  

“Yeah, because that won’t stink up the place, and it will be so fun to step on later.”  

“ _You’re no fun at all._ ”  

“Hairballs are serious business. Now get out of the way.”  

“ _We’re talking about the need for clothes again later._ ”  

“Do I have a choice?”  

“ _Probably not. Besides, you don’t really want one._ ”  

Marik didn’t bother to respond. He glanced over to see that Bakura had rematerialized his clothes and was now much less distracting, so he stepped forward and bent down to clean up Tou’s mess.   

“ _Don’t think I didn’t notice your lack of argument, Ishtar._ ”  

Marik still didn’t bother to respond as he dumped the remains in the garbage. He loved Tou, but there was no making that job pleasant. Even naked spirits. He washed his hands and turned, only to find himself chest to chest with Bakura. He blinked.   

“ _By the way, good morning._ ” The thief leaned in and dragged his lips along Marik’s cheek, which tingled aggressively at the contact. Marik held a hand over the spot and smiled as Bakura leaned away again. “ _I hope I didn’t bother you in the middle of the night. That game’s a pain in the ass._ ”  

Marik laughed. “You’re fine. I’m glad you had something to do.”  

“ _It was better than snooping._ ” Bakura brushed the hair from Marik’s forehead and then frowned over his shoulder. “ _You didn’t actually get to eat._ ”  

“Hm?” Marik turned and saw the empty bowl Bakura was looking at. “No, not yet.”  

“ _Well hurry up then, we have plans to make._ ” Bakura stalked over to the fridge and started to pull out anything that looked like it could be breakfast. Marik smiled fondly. They’d fallen so fast into a partnership in Battle City, and it looked like they were going to fall just as fast into whatever type of relationship this was. His heart fluttered a little at the thought, and he tried to ignore the heavy weight in his stomach that went along with it. This was good for now. Enjoy it for now. He moved forward to help sort out his food, before Bakura could end up poisoning him by accident.   

Marik ate his meal while Bakura ranted about the game he was trying to beat. It was frighteningly domestic, and Marik tried not to think about how easily he was getting used to this. It had barely been any time at all, and would be barely any more time yet. The conversation flowed smoothly around the frequent barbs, and they found themselves lingering at the table long after the last dregs of the coffee had been finished.   

A debate about the merits of guns versus arrows in the event of a proper zombie invasion was interrupted by a loud chirp from Marik’s phone. Marik winced at the long string of question marks from Ryou; he really should have responded before now. Ryou was probably already on his lunch break.  

“Shit, I meant to reply to Ryou earlier. He said he’d probably be able to get us through the door somehow. We should…we should probably follow up on that. Hang on, I’ll just call him.” If Bakura noticed his hesitation he didn’t comment on it. Ryou picked up almost immediately.   

“Hello?”  

“Hey Ryou, sorry we didn’t get back to you earlier. I was too tired to think this morning, and then we got distracted.”  

“Distracted with what?” Was it just his imagination, or did Ryou sound like he was implying something? Ryou wasn’t supposed to know he was doing anything but endure a babysitting job. Ugh, when had he ended up surrounded by people who could read him so well?  

“We had a hairball incident. Also, zombies. I had to give Bakura something to do at night.”  

“Right.”  

“ _Get on with it, you two. Enough small talk._ ”  

 “Right.” Marik straightened and turned his thoughts to the matter at hand. “Bakura is impatient and telling us to get on with it. I guess you want to know what’s going on, huh?”  

“That would be nice. You said you wanted a portal opened. Do you have a way to get Bakura through it, though? That’s where I’m stumped.”  

“I think we do. We’re going to do what we do best and rip off the pharaoh.”  

There was a brief pause on the other side of the line. “You mean we’re going to duel him out? Will that even work?”  

Marik had always appreciated how quickly Ryou could pick up on his planning. He leaned toward the phone and quickly shared the beginnings of their plans from last night, while Ryou listened attentively.   

“And so we figure we have something to go on for everything else, or at least enough to give it a try, but we don’t exactly have a door to the afterlife handy. What do you think?”  

There was a long silence from Ryou before he spoke. “That might actually work. I agree it’s at least worth a try, though it’s difficult to say if it will work without the Millennium Items. But we can’t use just any window to Aaru, it needs to be something a little more…active, than a quick look-see.”   

“Exactly. And the door we used for the pharaoh is buried in rubble, even if we wanted to try to move everything else to Egypt. We need a replacement.”  

“Yeah. I used a modern necklace for the spell to talk to Bakura, but for that I just needed something gold. It didn’t matter what it was all that much. But if we’re trying to actually walk a spirit to Aaru, it had better be something more authentic. Preferably something that was actually made and used by a priest.”  

Marik scoffed a bit. “Got any spare Egyptian artefacts lying around?”  

“I don’t, but the museum does.”  

Marik and Bakura shared a look and Bakura gave a wide grin. “ _I like this side of him._ ”  

“You think we can break in there and cast a spell without being noticed?”  

“Well no. Probably not. But if we’re trying to recreate the pharaoh’s spell, then I think the resting place for the item and the door should be in the same place. And since the item was ‘created’ in my living room….”  

Marik felt his eyes go wide. “You want to steal something from the museum.”  

“Borrow. Maybe if we ask nicely, Isis will lend us something to use.” There was a brief pause before Ryou continued. “But if we don’t ask, she can’t say no.”  

“ _Don’t ask. She’ll say no out of spite._ ”  

Marik glared at Bakura before speaking to them both. “You two are going to get me banned from family dinners.” He closed his eyes for a moment, but no other brilliant plan came to mind. “Ok. Let’s do it.”  

“ _Yes! I like this plan better than ever. Even if it doesn’t work, it’ll be fun putting it together._ ”  

Ryou spoke over Bakura. “Excellent! This really seems the best plan to me. We’ll need something that invokes the afterlife, particularly, and has an eye so it can pull Bakura out. There are a couple of smaller stone items that should do, I think. I can probably get my hands on one today, even.”  

“ _You mean we’re not going to go steal it ourselves? I like this plan less now._ ”  

Marik ignored Bakura’s whining. “Today? That soon?”  

“Well sure, why not? I have a shift today and it’s quiet. You can spin by on your bike and whisk it away before anyone notices. They won’t even question you visiting the museum, and then no one will wonder why I’m leaving with a big random bag at the end of the day.”  

Marik took a deep breath. That box of emotions was quickly filling to the brim, but he couldn’t dwell on the fluttering in his stomach. This was all moving so incredibly fast. He wasn’t ready. But as he looked up and saw the determined look in Bakura’s eyes, he had to remember that it didn’t really matter all that much if he was ready; Bakura was. It was time to end this thing.   

“Ok. Let’s do it. When should I be over?”  

* * *

 

A couple of hours later, Bakura had stowed himself in the ankh so Marik could drive them to the museum. Marik felt like he was ready to shake apart as he walked into the garage. He’d been trying not to think too hard about what they were doing and what it meant, but it was hard. He also worried about bumping into Isis while they were there. They hadn’t exactly ended their last conversation on the best of terms. He didn’t want to leave her stewing, but this wasn’t exactly the moment to try to mend bridges, either.   

He pulled out his phone to check his messages before they left. No text, no emails. Just as he was about to pocket the phone again, he noticed a sidebar advertisement for duel monster cards. One in particular caught his eye. ‘ _Diabound Kernel’_. He blinked. If that wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what would be. He paused long enough to purchase it, with next-day shipping. After all, the pharaoh had all his most important cards for his ritual. Clearly, Bakura was meant to have his. That done, he pulled his helmet on and kicked the bike into gear. Time to let the Thief King live up to his title.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/)


	11. In which final preparations are made

The handoff had gone surprisingly easily. Ryou had been ready at the door with a large, heavy canvas bag, which Marik had then settled onto the bike and driven away without a hitch. It had been kind of anticlimactic, really, and Bakura had complained bitterly about it until he was summarily shushed and forced back into the ankh for the ride home.   

Now, Marik was back in the garage with Bakura looking over his shoulder, staring at the intricate carvings on the artefact Ryou had ‘borrowed’. He had hauled his cargo forward without even bothering to get off the bike. He wanted to get a good look at the thing that was going to help take Bakura away. He brushed a finger along one of the symbols and held back a sigh.  

“So, what do you think?”  

“ _Looks Egyptian all right._ ”  

Marik craned his neck to give Bakura an exasperated look over his shoulder.   

“ _Can’t read, remember? But I trust Ryou to know what he’s doing. I’m sure this will work fine._ ”  

“You’re probably right.” Marik fell back into a silent contemplation for a few minutes. When he felt the bike begin to tremble slightly beneath him, he flicked the throttle down. He must not have done that properly in the first place, in his hurry to look at the stone.

A moment later, he felt a harder vibration beneath him, and saw that the throttle had definitely been moved. He flicked it down again and shot a look at Bakura, who was looking very intently at the markings in the upper left-hand corner of the stone tablet.

When the bike suddenly revved hard enough to risk him losing his grip on the stone, he quickly put it aside and snapped at Bakura. “Would you _stop_ that.”  

“ _Why, are you… distracted?_ ” Bakura was smirking. Why was he always smirking? The bike trembled gently beneath them again.   

“Are you trying to use it as a massage chair or something? Because it’s not working very well.”  

Bakura added a quirked eyebrow to his smirk and kept steady eye contact as he reached forward and revved up the bike several times in a row. He wiggled his eyebrows at Marik’s bemused expression, and it suddenly clicked.   

“Oh good gods, are you trying to use this as a vibe?”  

“ _Is it working?_ ”  

“No, it’s not, and-” Marik was cut off by a particularly enthusiastic tremble. “You are such a dick, stop trying to give me a bike boner.”  

The spirit looked absolutely delighted. “ _Is that a thing?_ ” He revved the engine again. “ _Please say that’s a thing._ ”  

Marik wrestled for control of the bike and grumbled back at Bakura. “I really wish I could shut you up with my mouth right now. That would probably distract you.”  

“ _Does that mean it’s working??”_   

Marik let out a frustrated groan and waved his hand through the general area of Bakura’s mouth. It was the best he could do, even though all he got out of it was a tingling hand. Bakura let out a delighted laugh and nuzzled his face right into the side of Marik’s neck, which sent shivers down his spine far more effectively than the bike ever would.

Bakura leaned away again with an overly satisfied grin. “ _Ok, fine, let’s get this thing inside already. Your cat is probably whining for supper anyways, and I don’t want to give it any new reasons to hack hairballs at me._ ”  

* * *

 

They spent the rest of the evening in relative silence. Ryou had sent a message saying he could have something set up for them to try as early as tomorrow afternoon, and quiet had descended.  Marik didn’t think either he or Bakura quite knew what to do with themselves, with all that was going on.  

Now in his room for the night, Marik stared at his phone. He didn’t want to make this call, but he felt like he had to. He took a deep breath and dialled.   

“Marik?”  

“Hello, sister.”  

“Oh, Marik. I’m glad you called. I-” 

Marik cut Isis off before she could get any further. “Before you say anything, you should know that we’re going for it.” There was silence on the other end of the line, so Marik continued. “We think we found a way to modify the pharaoh’s spell, and we’re going to try to cast it. It turns out you actually gave us a useful tip in the end.” Marik held his breath and waited for Isis to say something, and had to wait several long, agonizing moments before she spoke.   

“Marik…” She trailed off.   

“I know, it’s the pharaoh’s spell and we probably shouldn’t be using it because of tradition or rules or whatever. But it’s the best lead we have, and I think it will work. I have to help him, sister.”  

“Yes, I know you do.” There was a gentle exhalation on the other end of the line. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”  

“I won’t.”  

“You mean you hope that you won’t.” He heard another deep breath, and waited patiently for her to continue. “Marik, I shouldn’t have tried to rush you into banishing his spirit to be done with it. But I didn’t want to see you get caught up in his existence and lose yourself to it again. You’ve come so far and learned so much since those days. I should have trusted your judgement more than I did, and for that I’m sorry. I just don’t want to lose you again.”  

Marik rubbed at his eyes. “You won’t. I’m different, and so is he.” He let out a helpless little laugh. “Besides, he’s going to be gone tomorrow, if this works, so it doesn’t matter much if I’m caught up or not.”  

“It does matter. It might not change anything that happens to him, but it matters to you.”  

“I’ll be fine, Isis.”  

“And your family will be here to make sure that’s true.”  

Marik smiled softly and closed his eyes. “Thank you, sister.”  

* * *

 

The next morning dawned far brighter and sunnier than Marik felt. He dawdled in his bedroom, trying to decide whether he wanted to spend as much time around Bakura as possible or avoid the situation entirely. He still hadn’t quite decided when he headed out to look for his wayward thief. He found Bakura staring out the window in silence, apparently deep in thought. Marik imagined the morning light would look beautiful shining in his hair, if it could have done so. He crept up behind the thief and looked through him to the world outside.   

“What are you looking at?”  

“ _Nothing, really. The world._ ”  

“Not so bad anymore, is it?”  

Bakura turned to glance over his shoulder at Marik. “ _I suppose not._ ”   

“Ok, I’ll leave you to it. We mortals need coffee. It’s going to be a long day.”  

“ _I guess it will._ ”  

Marik turned away to head for the coffee. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he needed it. It felt so strange with Bakura’s lingering departure hanging over their heads. For all he had grumbled about Bakura’s over-the-top or just plain strange attempts at flirting, he’d prefer that to the solemn silence. Hell, he’d even prefer to hear the thief getting into another scrap with Tou.   

Speaking of the cat, Marik suddenly realized that Tou was being unusually silent, too. It was morning, and he’d been in the kitchen for longer than thirty seconds. Usually that would mean a mewling ball of fur around his ankles, clamouring for food. He peered around the edge of the countertop to see his cat quite happily chowing down the last of his breakfast. Tou looked up and licked his lips before settling back down with a flick of his tail, perfectly content. A small pool of warmth settled into the strangely empty bit of Marik’s chest as he watched.   

He’d been staring into his coffee cup for a few minutes when Bakura wandered in to the room. “Finished looking at the world?”  

“ _There are nicer things to look at in here._ ”  

Marik felt himself blush a little despite his mood. “Sure there are.” He took another sip of his coffee as Bakura settled in to what had become ‘his’ spot at the counter. “Thanks for getting Tou fed, by the way.”  

Bakura grunted in acknowledgement. “ _He was being annoying. I had to shut him up somehow.”_ Marik caught the ghost of a grin on the spirit’s face, but decided to let the gruff façade slide.   

“I’m sure he says thank you too. Maybe he’ll aim the next hairball somewhere else now.” Marik grinned over the rim of his cup.   

“ _He damn well better, or next time I’m gonna poison him.”_   

“If you poison my cat, I’ll put rocks in your robes before your weighing.”  

Bakura huffed. “ _That’s not how that works and you know it._ ”  

Marik shrugged. “It’s the thought that counts.” Marik kept a straight face for a few seconds, but couldn’t contain his snickering for longer than that. “This is ridiculous.”  

Whatever Bakura was about to say next was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. After a moments’ confusion, Marik realized that it must be the card he had ordered. Indeed, a delivery man stood at the door when he answered it. He signed for the small package and walked back to the kitchen, tapping his fingers along the small cardboard box anxiously.   

“ _What was that all about? You look twitchy. It’s weird.”_   

Marik ran his fingers along the edge of the package. “I got you a little gift.”  

“ _What was the point in that? No, wait. Is it a spray bottle for the cat? Because that, I’d enjoy.”_   

“I’m not helping you harass my cat. My money’s on him, remember?” Marik set the package on the counter in front of Bakura. “Can you open it yourself, or do you need help? It’s taped up pretty well.”  

“ _I’ll manage it._ ” After fumbling with his bare hands for a minute or two, Bakura fetched a small kitchen knife to slice through the tape. Marik had the fleeting thought that if the deliveryman came back he’d probably panic at the sight of a knife whizzing around the kitchen on its own. Bakura got the package open, and went wide-eyed. Marik fidgeted his fingers together as he settled his weight against the counter.   

“I saw an ad for it yesterday, completely randomly. I figured, if the pharaoh duelled with all his most important cards in hand, maybe this would help solidify the spell for you, too.” Bakura just continued to stare into the box for several long, silent moments. “Is it OK?”  

The spirit looked up from the box into Marik’s eyes, and Marik would almost swear his eyes looked a little glassy. “ _It’s wonderful._ ” Bakura looked back down and ran a finger lovingly down the face of the card before setting the box down on the counter. “ _You’re wonderful.”_ He took two steps towards Marik and lifted a hand to do the best he could to cup his face, and Marik leaned in to the sensation. “ _Thank you._ ”  

“You’re welcome.” Marik lifted a hand and hovered it over the thief’s, wishing fervently that they could make solid contact. “It seemed like it was meant to be, you know?”  

“ _Yeah, I know._ ” Bakura leaned up and brushed his lips along Marik’s cheek. Marik shuddered at the contact but hesitated when Bakura’s hands and lips started to wander. “ _What?_ ”  

“We probably shouldn’t. We’re already too involved, and you’re leaving right away.”  

“ _Then think of this as a very fond farewell. Besides, we’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves while it lasts, aren’t we?_ ” Bakura lifted a hand to gently comb his fingers through Marik’s bangs. He never had completely gotten the hang of moving hair, so half of it fell back down over Marik’s eyes.  Marik held his gaze steadily even so. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to return the favour. He wanted that fantasy so badly. But even with it right in front of his face, it was still hopelessly out of reach in so many ways.   

After several long moments of silence, Marik let out a sigh, fluttered his eyes closed and leaned his head back, exposing his neck to Bakura’s whims. If this was their farewell, then to hell with it, it was going to be as good as he could get. He shuddered hard when Bakura nuzzled his nose and lips into his throat and settled his hands on his hips, pressing the material into his skin.   

“I wish I could touch you back. This isn’t fair for you.”  

“ _Hmm. I guess you’ll just have to accept this as a gift, then._ ” Bakura’s hand trailed up his sides and brushed through the hair around his shoulders. “ _Let me give this to you. Please. Trust me, just watching you is plenty for me.”_   

Marik smiled lazily at the thief and mimed running his hand through Bakura’s hair. “Sap.”  

Bakura shrugged. “ _You enjoy it. Now hush, I have things to do._ ” Marik’s eyes blinked closed as Bakura wrapped himself around him, making fine work of driving him slowly insane. The contrast between the deep pressure of his hands and body on his clothes and the bright tingling of skin to skin contact was delightful. Marik’s fingers gripped the counter behind him in an attempt to keep grounded. Reaching out to hold the thief back would just end in disappointment, and he had to do _something_ with his hands.   

There was a pause in Bakura’s movements. When Marik opened his eyes, he noticed that the thief’s cloak had vanished, leaving his very distracting torso on full display. He let himself ogle a bit. If he couldn’t run his fingers over those abs, he’d at least thoroughly enjoy the view.   

“ _Told you we’d revisit the vanishing clothes._ ”  

“Where do they go, anyways?”  

“ _Who the fuck cares._ ” Bakura tugged a little on the hem of Marik’s shirt. “ _But I know where this can go._ ”  

Marik laughed a little and obliged, tossing the shirt onto the counter. “But now you can’t touch me anymore.”  

“ _Sure I can._ ”  

Marik let out a startled yelp when Bakura smoothed both hands down his chest from collarbone to hips, making his skin erupt with electricity as he went. Holy _shit_. He stared at Bakura wide-eyed.   

“ _Having fun?_ ”  

Marik just tossed his head back and groaned. The spirit took that as his cue to delve in and leave as many tingling trails along Marik’s torso as he could. Marik shuddered as his skin prickled and felt his pants getting very uncomfortable. “Shit.”  

The thief chuckled. “ _This is entertaining as fuck. Ooh, hang on._ ” Marik suddenly felt a soft cloth run down his chest, helping to ground him with the solid pressure. “ _There, now I can touch you again._ ” Bakura dangled a bit of terry towel cloth in front of Marik’s face, before attacking his chest again. The slightly scratchy material felt wonderful as it dragged across his taught nipples, and he let out a deep groan as he gasped for air.   

Bakura leaned right in next to Marik’s ear. “ _You’re beautiful, you know that?_ ” Marik cracked an eye open and saw a sultry smirk on Bakura’s face for a second, before he felt a hug on the waistband of his pants. “ _May I?_ ”  

Marik nodded his head, and took a moment to get his bearings again as Bakura fumbled with trying to undo the button. His limited ability to move objects wasn’t quite holding up in his distracted state, and it wasn’t long before a frustrated pout crossed his face.   

“ _Your pants are being difficult._ ”  

Marik laughed. “Let me help with that. They’re getting really uncomfortable.” He leaned forward and made short work of his pants and underwear. When he looked back up, the spirit had vanished away the rest of his clothes, too. The Thief King’s skin was scarred, but that made him all the more beautiful. And his ancient life must have agreed with him, because muscles like that don’t just happen magically. Marik would know.

“ _If you tell me to put my naked ass away again, I might have to abandon you to take care of yourself on your own._ ”  

“Trust me, no complaints this time.” And he meant it, too. He dragged his eyes along Bakura’s physique. “It’s a very nice view when I’m not thinking of hairballs.”  

Bakura let out a bark of laughter and stepped forward. “ _You have better things to be thinking about right now._ ”  

Marik wasn’t sure what he’d call the sound he made when Bakura abruptly ran his fingers all the way along his cock, but it was loud. Bakura cackled. “ _Oooh, let’s do that again!”_   

Marik lost himself in the sensations. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was leaving fingernail marks in the countertop, but he had to hold onto something or he would fly out of his skin. Bakura used his lips and teeth to leave him tingling until Marik felt like he has going to vibrate right out of his skin, and then soothed the sensations with the towel until he was trembling for more. Marik didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on in his entire life. It was electric.   

He felt tears begin to gather in the corners of his eyes as Bakura went back to running his fingers along his balls and up his cock. He must be leaking precum everywhere; could feel wetness trailing freely down his length, and it was bizarre to be experiencing that at the same time as the ghosting of tingling fingers in the same place. He gasped for air when the cloth returned, gently cleaning up the droplets Bakura’s fingers couldn’t catch.   

Bakura trailed the cloth from Marik’s straining cock up over his abs and chest. He trailed it gently over Marik’s shoulder and tossed it back onto the counter behind them. He stood a hair’s breadth away. Marik’s chest heaved and his arms were trembling from their vice grip on the counter. Bakura gently rubbed his nose through Marik’s to get his attention, and Marik cracked an eye open.  

“ _Can I try something?_ ”  

Marik groaned loudly and dropped his head back. “Anything. Whatever you want. Just keep going, for fuck’s sake.” Marik snapped his eyes closed and shifted restlessly.   

“ _Your wish is my command._ ” Bakura gently brushed Marik’s hair back from his shoulder, brushed his lips gently against his cheek one more time, and stepped forward.   

Marik yowled as his entire body came alive with electricity. He bucked away from the counter, whimpering desperately. His whole body shuddered violently as he came with a wordless yell. As his shuddering slowed, Bakura stepped back and grabbed the cloth to trail along Marik’s arms. It gave him some relief as he came down, gasping for air as his body shuddered out the last of his orgasm.   

It took a while for his head to stop spinning long enough to notice Bakura was gently wiping the sweat off his forehead. He blinked his eyes open and caught Bakura’s calm eyes. “Hi.”  

“ _Hi._ ” Bakura gave his forehead one last swipe with the cloth before setting it down. “ _Well, that was fun._ ”  

Marik laughed, still a little breathless. “That’s the understatement of the year. Holy shit.”  

Bakura’s grin was wide and wicked. “ _Glad to be of service._ ”  

Marik smiled fondly at the thief and mimed brushing a hand along his face again. It still gently tingled along his palm, but he didn’t think his nerve endings would be properly awake again for a while yet. “Thank you. I’ll never forget this.”  

Bakura’s smile softened and he reached forward to tug on a piece of Marik’s bangs. “ _Me neither._ ” Without another word, he vanished himself into the little ankh that still lay on Marik’s chest. Marik sighed and smiled at the empty room for a few minutes, before hauling himself up to go shower. It wouldn’t look good if he showed up at Ryou’s place looking so dishevelled. He ran a finger gently along the gold of the necklace, and set off to get cleaned up.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/)
> 
> >///<


	12. In which the final spell is cast

The text from Ryou came in the early afternoon. Marik silently gathered the few supplies he was supposed to bring and hauled them out to his bike. He was carefully strapping down the stone tablet when Bakura spoke.   

“ _Do you really think this will work?_ ”  

Marik tensed, but gave the straps one last tug and looked up with the best cheeky grin he could manage. “Hell if I know, this spell is being powered mostly by vague hopes and bullshit at this point. But I still think it’s worth trying. You deserve that much.”  

Bakura hummed and gave the cloth covered tablet one last contemplative look before silently vanishing back into the ankh. There was nothing left to do but go try it. Marik kicked the bike to life.   

He didn’t remember the ride to Ryou’s place being so short. He sighed as he killed the engine, and squared his shoulders as he hauled up the tablet and walked to the door. He could do this. He had to, for Bakura’s sake.   

Ryou was quick to greet him at the door, and helped him settle the tablet on a side table for the moment. Bakura rematerialized as soon as they were inside.   

“ _Hello, Ryou._ ”  

“You’re actually using my name! I wasn’t sure you would keep that up, you know.”  

“ _I’m a man of my word. You rigged a game in your favour fair and square_.”  

Ryou giggled. “You bet I did.” He put his hands on his hips and looked at Bakura. “Are you ready to go home?”  

“ _Yes. It’s been long enough._ ”  

Ryou nodded and turned to Marik. “You brought everything we need, right?”  

“Yeah.” Marik tipped out a bag containing a few spare candles and Ryou’s deck, which now contained the Diabound Kernel card.  

“Oh good. This should do it, then.” Ryou scooped up the candles and led the way back to the room where it all began. It looked remarkably similar to the first time Marik had seen it set up to cast a spell on Bakura’s behalf.   

Ryou set the candles down in position and turned to the other two. “I’ve had some thoughts about how this should go.” He gestured for them to sit and then continued. “I know when the pharaoh went through this, Yugi brought him out of the puzzle and Yugi sent him away. But I don’t think I should be the one to duel Bakura out.”  

“ _Why not?_ ”  

“Well, for one, Marik has essentially been your host this time around. For another, lovely as it is to see you behaving yourself, spirit, I’m not looking for any new tenants right now, and I’d hate to think about what might happen if this doesn’t work properly. And besides, you’re using my deck to do it, aren’t you?”  

“ _I guess that makes as much sense as the rest of the nonsense we’re stringing together to make this happen._ ” Bakura turned to Marik with a wide grin. “ _Hey, if you duel me, will I come out looking like you when the spell pulls me out?_ ” Bakura’s grin took on a wicked edge. _“Guess I better practice then._ ” Bakura bulged out his eyes and waggled his tongue at them.  

“Shut your face before I find a way to shut it for you, thief.” Marik gave him a very unimpressed look as he eyed the waggling tongue. “If that happens, this whole situation will really go to shit.”  

Bakura just scoffed. “ _We could take him. And you’d probably like to see more of my tongue anyways._ ”  

Marik felt himself flush and coughed loudly. “That’s enough about that, Bakura. Shut up.”  

Marik turned to look at Ryou and see how he was reacting to their banter, only to see a bright smile on his face. “Well I’m glad you two have been having fun.” Marik ran a hand down his face in exasperation. So much for subtlety.   

Marik sighed loudly to cut that conversation off. “But _anyways_ , is everything ready? Is this really about to happen?”  

“Yes, I think we’re about ready. I’ve set up the pedestal for the necklace in more or less the same spot, and found a spell which should let us use our borrowed artefact as a door of sorts. We really just need to get everything in position, cast the spell, and hope for the best.”  

“So you’ll stay to help cast it, then?”  

“Oh. No, I don’t think so. It’s simple enough, I’ll just teach it to you. I’d rather be nowhere near here when you set Bakura loose. My soul has gotten quite used to having a whole body of its own to use. Just try not to trash my apartment too much on the way by - I don’t have the money for a major reno right now.”  

“ _No promises. Duelling is serious business._ ”  

Marik looked around the room. “Actually, Ryou, that’s good point. Your apartment is so much smaller than the pharaoh’s ceremonial chamber.  What if the ritual doesn’t fit? Your neighbours might not appreciate us bursting in.”  

Ryou just smiled and shrugged. “I have faith that the magic will work its way into the space it’s got. If not, we can try to pass it off as a gas line explosion or something. But I don’t think it will come to that, or I wouldn’t have offered my living room to use in the first place.”  

Marik sent his gaze around the room again. He knew he was being silly, looking for any last questions he could possibly ask to delay the inevitable. The box of emotions was threatening to burst, and he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it when it did. With a deep breath, he turned back to Ryou.   

“Ok, teach me how this is supposed to go.”  

* * *

 

What felt like about ten seconds later, but may well have been several hours, Ryou was wishing them luck with a wave as he left them in the apartment. Marik was trying very hard to stop his hands from shaking as he turned back to Bakura, who had sat silently watching while Ryou taught him how to cast the spell he’d found.   

“Are you ready?”  

“ _Yes._ ”  

Marik felt a flutter of panic in his chest. “Are you really sure? Once we cast this, there’s no going back. We’ll be stuck with whatever it gives us.” Marik stared intently into Bakura’s eyes. A not-insignificant part of him wanted the thief to call the whole thing off. To somehow manage to fall into his arms and continue what they’d just started together. He knew it was a totally unreasonable dream, but that didn’t stop his heart from hoping against all hope anyways. If only. If only things were different. If only there were another spell.   

If only he wanted to stay.   

Bakura met his gaze steadily for several long, silent moments. Marik wished he could read those eyes better, but he couldn’t tell what was behind their translucent depths.   

“ _I’m sure. It’s time. I want to go home._ ”  

Marik felt a tremble deep in his gut, but took a steeling breath and squared his shoulders. If Bakura wanted to leave, then so be it.   

“Ok, fine. Then I’ll kick your ass right back to the Fields.”  

Bakura gave a solemn nod and vanished into the ankh for what would hopefully be the last time. Marik sunk to his knees in front of the stone eye, which stared back at him unfeelingly as he reached forward to place Bakura’s ankh on the pedestal. He took a moment to clench his trembling fingers into fists at his thighs. Now wasn’t the time. He had a job to do, and he would do it. He could have a breakdown later. Bakura didn’t deserve that to be his last memory.   

With one last deep breath, he relaxed his hands, opened his eyes, and started reciting the spell. To Ryou’s credit, it worked exactly as he had predicted. The room seemed to fill with static sparks of electricity, but they didn’t come with any of the same pleasure as Bakura’s touch. Marik continued reciting as the stone glowed and the little ankh reacted in kind. A moment later, he was silent, and the Thief King’s still slightly hazy form stood proud and tall in front of the stone eye. Bakura opened his mouth, and spoke the first words Marik would hear him speak aloud.   

“I am the Thief King Bakura, let me through!”  

Marik would swear the apartment trembled, but none of the delicate objects on Ryou’s shelves even twitched. The eye shone brightly as Bakura spoke, and his body suddenly became real in a way Marik had so desperately wished it could be earlier. Both his borrowed deck and Marik’s shone for a brief moment before settling. It was time.   

Bakura turned to look at Marik, who got silently to his feet and picked up his deck. Bakura’s hand twitched at his side as though he wanted to reach out, but Marik just turned away and walked across the room. He couldn’t bear to touch him if it was going to be the first and last time all at once. He had a job to do, and he would do it. He could have his breakdown later. He turned back around to Bakura with a determined frown and slotted his deck into one of the duel disks they’d brought for the occasion. Time to get to work.   

* * *

 

Sometime later, Marik was overwhelmed with more emotions than he cared to deal with in a month, let alone a moment. The duel had been going well for Bakura. Actually, it been going a little too well. The nature of the spell meant they both had to give it their all, and now that Bakura had cards he was familiar with things weren’t going like they had the last time they had duelled. Bakura was winning, and with apparent ease.  

Marik had a job to do, and he would do it. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to be losing. He had no idea what would happen if Bakura wasn’t defeated in the challenge, but maybe it meant he’d get to keep him for a while. The thought made him smile a little despite himself.  

“You finally think of a strategy that will actually work?” Bakura gave a strained smirk across the room at Marik, who grinned back.   

“I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?” Marik placed his card, and dared not to hope. He had a job to do, and he could do it. The breakdown could come later.   

* * *

 

Bakura looked out at the field and wasn’t sure how to feel. He was winning. That felt wonderful, and Ryou’s cards meant this felt more like a real duel than the silly timewaster of a match they’d had earlier on. Diabound stood strong on the field, helping his campaign to victory. But this wasn’t supposed to happen. What the hell was he supposed to do if he actually won this stupid contest? Float around in a touristy trinket for all eternity? He might have it to himself, but that was no way to exist.  

But then again… maybe he wouldn’t be stuck in the ankh. What if he lost, and got to stay like this? None of them knew what would have happened if the pharaoh had won that duel. Maybe he could stay for real. It had been thousands of years already, what’s another few decades? And then…then, he could stay with Marik for a while longer.   

He looked out across the field at the fierce blond standing across from him. He was beautiful, and strong. Bakura had been so absolutely determined to look for his family that he hadn’t considered anything else. His path had been absolutely clear, all other options be damned. But now, in his own body, seeing Marik in the glow of the spell, there was suddenly another way. And just as suddenly, he realized how desperately he wanted it. The thought of staying with Marik, sharing his life, and even enjoying the ongoing feud with that ridiculous hairball, filled his chest with warmth. And from the looks of it, he’d get the chance to find out if that future could be real.   

He set another card and grinned widely across at Marik. “You might be stuck with me yet. Guess today just isn’t your day.” He never thought he’d feel quite this happy about one of his plans falling apart around his ears, but here he was.   

Marik must have seen the change in his eyes, because he matched Bakura’s wide grin with one twice as bright as he got ready to draw. “It’s not for lack of trying. Maybe it’s just meant to be different for you. At this rate you might actually win this th-” Marik stopped cold as he got a glimpse of his card and his expression plummeted.   

Bakura’s breath froze in his chest. It was an odd sensation. “What did you just draw?” Gods no. Not after all this. Not when he’d realized what he needed far too late, as usual.   

Marik’s eyes were glassy as he lifted his eyes from the card. “I’m sorry.”  

Bakura felt his heart jump in his chest. “No. Marik, I change my mind. I need to win this, Marik!”  

Marik’s face crumpled as Bakura spoke. His voice trembled. “I can’t hold back Bakura, it would break the spell. I can’t, I can’t. I don’t know what it would do to you.” Bakura watched helplessly as a few tears leaked down Marik’s cheeks. “I can’t risk you.” Marik closed his eyes and seemed to be blocking out Bakura’s rambling pleas. “I have to do this, Bakura. I’m so, so sorry.” Marik took a deep, shuddering breath. When he looked up again, his eyes were clear and determined. His hand only shook the tiniest bit as he lay the card down.  

“I play Monster Reborn.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ilu? <3 
> 
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	13. In which a spirit finally finds his way home

Bakura watched helplessly as Marik laid the spell. He looked desperately at the field. At his hand. At anything. He felt panic well up in his gut. He had to stop this. He’d been wrong. It wasn’t time yet. There had to be a way. Somehow, there had to be.  

But there wasn’t. The bright light of Marik’s last attack all but blinded him. The tinkling sound of the last of his life points draining away sounded distant, but the pained whimper from across the room rang clear as a bell. Bakura lowered his arm to see Marik standing on trembling legs, one hand clamped over his mouth as tears trickled from the corners of his eyes. Marik took a hitching breath and managed a shaky smile as he dropped his hand.  

“Congratulations, Bakura. I guess you get to go home after all. That’s what you wanted. Your family will be there, I’m sure of it.”  

Bakura just gaped wordlessly while the shock of his sudden loss sunk in. Before he’d even had time to fully realize what was happening, the eye on the tablet glowed bright white and a portal grew in front of his startled eyes. Distantly, he could see the hazy forms of other people there. They weren’t clear, but they were there. The portal felt warm. Some deep, instinctual part of him knew this was where he was supposed to go. If the shadow realm was cold and fear, this place was just the opposite. And yet, he hesitated. He pried his eyes away from the open arms awaiting him in the portal and looked back towards Marik.  

Marik gave him another watery grin. “Go home, Bakura. It’s OK. Go.”  

Bakura looked back toward the portal, which was growing brighter and closer as he hesitated in front of it.  

“But… I want to have a life first.”  

He wanted to look back at Marik one last time, but the portal flashed, and he found himself pulled through before he could manage to tear his eyes away from the light.   

Behind him, Marik collapsed to the ground with a sob.   

* * *

 

Marik couldn’t catch his breath. His arms were bound tightly around his middle as though that would somehow hold him together. He’d had a job to do, and he’d done it.   

And now he could break down all he wanted.   

He felt his forehead hit the ground as he curled forward. He gasped for air and retched on his own sobs as he tried desperately to calm down. It was done. It was over. He could mourn as long as he wanted, but for now he needed to _breathe_.   

But he couldn’t slow his sobbing. Bakura had changed his mind. He’d seen it happen. He’d heard it confirmed. Bakura had _wanted to stay with him_. And now he was gone. And he had helped to send him away. But he hadn’t had a choice, had he? He couldn’t have risked ripping Bakura’s spirit apart. Even if he wanted to keep him.

Even if Bakura had wanted to stay.

Marik finally managed to suck in a proper breath of air. Breathing should have been easier than this, with the wide hollow left in his chest. He found another breath and greedily sucked it in. He was still sobbing into Ryou’s carpet, but at least he felt less frantic with it. He idly wondered how long it would be before he felt normal again, if ever. He dismissed the thought, and shoved it crookedly into the broken box.   

Marik didn’t know how long he lay on the carpet hiccupping through his sobs, but eventually he found the energy to lift himself up. He gazed dazedly around the room. It looked remarkably the same as when Bakura had been in it with him, and that felt perversely wrong. How strange, that the world kept its form even when a hole had been ripped right through the middle of it. Marik blinked slowly, waiting for the room around him to fundamentally change somehow, to reflect his pain back at him in some tangible way he could focus on.

It didn’t. How cruel.

He forced his eyes around the room, looking for something to latch on to. They fell on the ring of candles they’d lit for the ritual. It would have been better if they’d been for a romantic bubble bath or some other sappy shit like that. What would Bakura have looked like covered in bubbles? Guess he’d never know. _Damn_ his deck.

Some part of his mind was functioning enough to notice that all but one of the candles had been blown out in the drama of the ritual’s ending. He stared at it for several long moments, and it slowly occurred to him that he should stop it from dripping too much wax on Ryou’s floor. He shuffled forward on his knees, and blew it out.  

He fell back into staring as thin ribbons of smoke curled upwards from the candle’s wick. He watched the winding shapes drift upward, and his thoughts drifted with them back to Bakura’s family. Would their spirits look like that? He’d heard that the spirits of Kul Elna hadn’t been much more in the final RPG. What if that’s all Bakura would find? What if this whole damn endeavour was for nothing? What if there wasn’t anything waiting beyond that portal to push away whatever regret Bakura had felt in those last precious moments? What if….  Marik’s thoughts rapidly descended into a patternless, panicky swirl as the smoke in front of his eyes curled up. And up. And up.

Marik blinked, and realized he was staring at empty space. The smoke had gone. He shook himself. He glanced at the clock on the wall, and then realized he didn’t know when he’d blown out the candle, anyways. He shifted his weight and cringed at the pain in his knees and numbness of his shins. Fuck. He shifted to sit on the ground with his bent legs in front of him to get the circulation back, and ran a hand down his face to ground himself further. He was startled to discover that his face was covered with fresh tears, the last of which were still tricking down his cheeks and chin. Double fuck. He was going to dehydrate and die on Ryou’s carpet at this rate. That would be a hell of a thank you. One death was enough for today.

Marik closed his eyes and took several deep breaths into the hole in his chest. What the ever-loving fuck was he going to do now? His thoughts turned to his siblings, and he felt the blood drain from his face. Oh gods, how the hell was he going to face Isis after this? There was no way he’d be able to hide this from her. She was going to be so pissed he’d done this to himself. Or fuss over him until he wanted to scream. Or both. Probably both. Maybe Rishid could keep her under control if he asked, he had offered to help out with that… well, sort of. But then again, he didn’t much want to face him, either. Fuck.

Ryou would be back eventually. He knew what they’d been and done together. Or, he knew enough. And there was no way Marik was going to be bothered to try to put himself back together in time to save face, anyways. Maybe, then, Ryou would help him figure out how he could make it through this. Marik aggressively squashed the thought of asking him if they could check on Bakura, just to be sure. That’s what had started this whole mess in the first place. He couldn’t possibly say goodbye to him a third time. He’d break.

Marik took one more deep breath and forced his eyes open. He finally noticed that he was sitting on some of his scattered cards.  He mechanically gathered his cards from under him, tucking them away into his deck. He doubted he’d use them again after this. Not after this last thing he’d done with them.

He finally turned his gaze to the other side of the room. Ryou’s cards lay scattered across a wide area, where Bakura’s sudden disappearance had left them. He forced himself to crawl over. His hands shook so badly that he had trouble keeping hold of the cards as he gathered them up into a neat pile. Ryou would want them back, after all.

Right where Bakura had last stood, he found Diabound Kernel. He set aside the rest of the deck and lifted it with trembling fingers. This was Bakura’s, not Ryou’s. He ran a finger gently down the face of the card over and over again as a fresh wave of quiet tears trailed down his cheeks. This card he’d keep. He needed something, and this seemed like about the best he would get. Bakura had held it in his fingers. Marik brought the card up to his lips and gently brushed a kiss across the name. He held it to his forehead and let himself curl into a miserable ball again. Just a few more minutes. Then he’d face the world again.   

He wasn’t expecting the bright flash of light. He _definitely_ wasn’t expecting to be shoved sideways as something warm and heavy knocked into him. He looked up, startled, as Diabound fluttered to the ground from his lax grip. He blinked. 

It was Bakura. Solid. There. He was patting at his own chest with an astonished look on his face. He looked up, and his eyes were just as Marik remembered, if perhaps wider than usual.   

Clearly, he’d gone completely insane in his grief. 

His hallucination stared back and forth between Marik’s nonplussed look and his own body. “I saw my family. I saw them, Marik. But…” A huff of breathless laughter escaped. “…but they wouldn’t let me join them. They said I wasn’t a complete enough soul anymore to bother weighing.” The apparition chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Marik blinked, uncomprehending. It had been a lot less confusing, the last time he’d gone insane.   

The Bakura-shaped hallucination looked right at him again. Those eyes looked so _real_ it tore at his heart. “They sent me back.” The image chucked. “They decided to ‘ _punish me for my misdeeds’_ by forcing me to live another life before going to the Reeds.” The chuckle escalated into a full-blown cackle. “Suckers!”

Marik startled violently when the Bakura-shaped hallucination reached forward and grabbed his arms with warm, solid fingers. “Marik. They _sent me back._ ” Bakura was smiling properly now as he gave Marik a little shake. “Marik, I’m here. It’s really me. Snap out of it, for fuck’s sake.”  

Marik reached out a trembling hand and brushed the hair from Bakura’s eyes. He brushed his fingers along the scar, feeling the rough texture under his fingers. “I’m not insane. This is real.”  

Bakura nodded hard, and grinned so widely it looked like his face might split in two. “It’s real.”  

“You’re here.”  

“I’m here!” Marik gasped as Bakura let out a loud whoop and lunged forward, pinning him to the ground with an enthusiastic kiss. He met Bakura’s laughter with his own, and finally, finally wound his arms around the thief. He clung desperately, soaking in the feeling of a warm, solid body in his arms.

The kisses were far too full of laughter. They couldn’t manage to keep proper contact, and kept knocking their teeth and noses together. Marik was pretty sure he’d end up with bruised lips with how hard they were clinging to each other. It was sloppy, and uncoordinated, and sometimes painful. It was perfect. This was perfect.  

It felt like home.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it! Only the Epilogue to go now, because these boys deserve Good Things after all this. :) Thanks for coming along for the ride. :)
> 
> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/)


	14. In which Bakura is home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On A03, you get the spicy version of the Epilogue, so there are lot of happy endings here. ;) If you would prefer the fluff-only version, it's on [ FFnet ](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13116523/14/The-Way-Home).

Marik woke with a groan when the morning sun rudely assaulted his eyelids. They’d been up late, so it would have been nice if the sun had held off for another hour. A quick fumble around the bed next to him found nothing but sheets. Again? He grumbled and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Time to be awake, whether he liked it or not. He sat up and grabbed the nearest pair of boxers to wear. They didn’t look like his, but there were priorities on mornings like this, and boxer ownership wasn’t one of them.     

He padded into the living room and found exactly what he’d expected after waking up alone. Loading screen music played softly from the TV, and his boxer-clad Kura was fast asleep on the couch, with a controller dangling from one limp hand. Marik smiled fondly at the sight. What an idiot. 

Marik crept up beside him and laid a soft kiss to the crown of his head. He smoothed out the pale hair a little, and winced. Looks like it was time for the good conditioner again. It was a good thing at least one of them understood hair products, or that mane would be a disaster.  

Marik gently pulled the controller from Bakura’s limp hand and laid it on the table. He took another look at the TV screen, and sure enough, the chat log along the side ended with several notes from Ryou, timestamped in the very wee hours of the morning. _Hey TK, did you fall asleep again?.......???......I guess so. ……’Night._ And then, about ten minutes after that: _Good morning, Marik! ;p_   

Marik chuckled as he left Bakura to his nap, and made a detour to grab his phone. He sent Ryou a quick ‘good morning’, and thanked him for occupying Bakura so he could sleep through the thief’s perpetual insomnia - again. He should probably bring Ryou some more sweet buns as a thank you the next time they went over to play Monster World.   

He finally wandered over to where the caffeine was, and he was promptly greeted by a petulant mewl.     

“Aw sweetie, are you hungry? Have you been left alone for a whole five extra minutes to _starve_?” He got another particularly pathetic little mewl in response. “The tragedies of your charmed life. C’mon, Zee, let’s get you fed.” He nudged the little black kitten with an ankle as he grabbed the cat bowls, and made sure to flick the coffee machine on as he passed by on the way to the cat food. The whole process was carefully supervised by wide green eyes.   

He had just knelt down to give Zee some good morning pats while she ate when he heard a loud commotion from the other room. Sounded like his boys were up. Bakura’s loud shout confirmed it.     

“Get back here, you little SHIT!”    

Marik rolled his eyes and dragged himself and two cups of coffee back out into the living room. “What did he do now?”     

“Your rat bastard of a cat stole my damn sock!”    

Marik just took a sip of coffee and watched as Bakura practically hissed in Tou’s direction. He rolled his eyes and droned out some platitudes. “Oh no. The horror. Bad Tou.” He took another sip. “If you really wanted to piss him off, you should have gone for the controller.” He quirked a grin at Bakura’s glower.     

“ _You_ are not helping.”    

“Not trying to. You know my money’s still always on Tou.”    

“You’re lucky I love you.”    

“Noted. You want your coffee, gamer boy?”    

Bakura padded over in his remaining sock and took the drink gratefully. “Thanks.” He reached up and pecked a quick kiss to Marik’s cheek before slurping down his drink with a happy hum. “By the way, I noticed there’s suddenly a lot more meat than usual in the fridge. Are we getting invaded by your family again, or do I owe you a blowjob?” 

Marik laughed. “Both. They’re coming over tonight to visit, you knew that. And I’m sure you owe me a blowjob for something. You usually do.” 

“Hm. At least your brother eats proper food.” 

“And Isis is bringing beer.” 

“… alright, I guess she’s OK too.” 

Marik was about to lean over and give Bakura a proper good morning kiss, when a grumbling bundle of grey fur appeared at their ankles, yowling for his own breakfast.  

Bakura glared down at him. “You already ate a sock, what are you complaining about?” 

“I highly doubt he actually ate your dirty sock.” Marik rolled his eyes at Bakura’s pout. The few seconds’ pause was apparently long enough for Tou to decide he was on his own to find food today, and he bolted to the kitchen. 

They both hurried after him, and entered the room just in time to watch Zee take a swipe at Tou’s face for getting too close to the last of her breakfast. Marik quickly intervened by scooping Tou up to his chest. “Don’t steal food, you brat, you don’t need to get any fatter. Kura slips you enough treats as it is. Don’t be greedy.” 

“I do nothing of the sort.” Bakura had crouched down to stroke along Zee’s back, who pressed up into his hand with a happy purr and tried to claw her way into his lap. “You spoil your pet and I’ll spoil mine, thanks.” Bakura settled right down onto the kitchen floor and scooped up the last of Zee’s kibble to let her eat out of his hand, while Tou enthusiastically gobbled down the breakfast Marik laid out for him.  

Marik settled down on the ground next to the pair, and wound his arms around Bakura’s waist. Bakura obligingly shifted so he could sit in the circle of Marik’s legs and settle back against him, tilting his head back to nuzzle a kiss to Marik’s neck as he did. Marik shivered a little at the contact, as usual, and squeezed his arms tighter around Bakura’s waist with a happy hum.

Bakura, for his part, had turned his attention to Tou, who was pushing his half-finished bowl of breakfast across the floor as he ate with his usual enthusiasm. He lazily stuck out a foot to stop the cat’s progress. It only earned him a small huff as Tou readjusted and kept gobbling down his food with barely a pause.

“That was more fun when he fell through me and hit the floor.” Bakura turned his head to pout up at Marik. “I miss being a ghost.”

Marik smirked. “No, you really don’t.” He wove his fingers through the hair on the back of Bakura’s head, and tilted him up for a proper kiss. Their lips fit together with the ease of long practice, and Marik smiled when Bakura let out a deep, contented sigh. He broke the kiss and stared into Bakura’s glazed eyes. “Well?”

“Nope, I take it back. This is good. C’mere.” Bakura twisted right around to face him and Marik felt a hand tug insistently on the back of his neck. He really didn’t need any convincing to lean forward into more warm morning kisses, and happily slid their mouths together.

Marik smoothed his hands around Bakura’s waist and up to the back of his neck as they kissed. He still couldn’t resist running his hands along his skin every chance he could find, just to remind himself that he could. He was warm, and real, and wonderful, and he would never ever get tired of that. Marik stole his lips away to run a line of kisses down the thief’s neck. Bakura shuddered a little, and Marik took that as his cue to press Bakura to the floor and work his way down the toned chest, leaving gentle kisses and lingering touches in his wake. 

Marik had just laid a kiss to a muscled shoulder when he suddenly felt a tiny paw bat at the side of his head. He laughed and tilted his head to the side to grin at Zee. “Nope, sweetie, he’s mine.” He leaned down and smacked a loud kiss to Bakura’s chest for emphasis. “Too bad.” The kitten tilted her head, let out a tiny mew, and made a point of curling into a little ball of fur right in the crook of Bakura’s neck.

Bakura laughed. “You’ve got competition.” He reached up to run a tender finger along the little black ball of fluff.

Marik’s eyes softened as Bakura caressed Zee’s little ears. The smile on his face was probably sappy as hell, but he didn’t really care. After enjoying the heartwarming sight for a few moments, he leaned forward to murmur into Bakura’s ear. “You’re both adorable. But just so you know, in about… one and half minutes, I plan to be naked. Just in case that’s of interest.” He leaned back with a devilish smirk, which only widened at the sight of Bakura’s dilated eyes. Then he got up off of his boyfriend and sauntered out of the kitchen without a backward glance, pulling his boxers teasingly low on his hips as he went.

He could hear Bakura scrambling to his feet, talking to Zee as he did. “Ok, you know you’re my favourite girl, but he’s my favourite boy – no not _you,_ Tou, you’re still an asshole – and I really gotta take this. Go hunt your brother or something, there we go…” Marik heard a piteous mew as Zee was presumably settled on the ground. There was a short pause, and then a dull _thud_ and the faint sound of paws on hardwood as the cats tore away from the kitchen. “Atta girl. Give ‘im hell.”

The sound of Bakura’s steps were now headed for the hallway, and Marik scrambled to find a sultry pose leaning against the wall. He’d only half-managed by the time Bakura rounded the corner.

Bakura scoffed when saw him. “I was promised nakedness, Ishtar.”

“I said I planned to be naked, not that I’d do it myself.” There was a moment of silence, and he raised an eyebrow in challenge. When Bakura started to prowl forward with a wicked grin, Marik bolted for the bedroom with a laugh.

Bakura had tackled him to the bed enough times by now that he knew just how to brace the impact to protect his back. Marik looped his arms up around his neck as soon as they were settled. “So where were we before Zee tried to upstage me?” Bakura wasted no time to lean down and meld their mouths together, and Marik greedily accepted the kisses that had been so rudely, if adorably, interrupted earlier.

They were already getting a little breathless when Marik felt Bakura run a finger teasingly under the elastic of his boxers. “Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Marik obligingly lifted his hips so they could shimmy him out of his stolen boxer shorts. He delighted at the way Bakura followed them all the way down his legs with trailing fingertips. Marik hummed and lifted a hand to return the favour, but found nothing but skin. When the hell had that happened? Still, he’d never been one to turn down an opportunity, so he settled his hand comfortably against Bakura’s naked ass as he spoke.

“Eager, much? Didn’t you get enough yesterday?”

Bakura growled into his neck. “How dare you suggest there’s an ‘enough’. Blasphemy.” He emphasized his point with a sharp nip to Marik’s collarbone. Marik laughed, and was promptly attacked by a flurry of kisses wherever Bakura could reach.  

Well, two could play at that game.  

It didn’t take long for a wrestling match to break out as they fought for kissing rights. Really, this was the best way to fight, as far as Marik was concerned. The room filled with laughter, playful taunts, and the occasional grunt as an elbow found it’s mark before a lingering kiss was placed on whatever body part needed it.

Eventually Marik found himself pinned back down to the mattress, and laughed when Bakura pecked a victorious kiss to the tip of his nose. He would have challenged the victory, but the next thing he knew Bakura had slipped a hand under his knee to haul his leg up and around his waist.  Marik gasped when Bakura rolled his hips down, pressing their cocks together. Nevermind. Change of plans. He squeezed his leg around Bakura’s waist. “Yes, that. Time for that. On with it, thief.” 

Bakura laid their foreheads together for a moment, and rocked his hips again. “As you wish.” 

Their playful kisses turned heated as they worked their hips together. Just as Marik was ready to demand they switch positions and get on with it, Bakura murmured against his lips.  

“Better start to work off my debt, yeah?” With the briefest of smirks, he started to lay lingering kisses down Marik’s torso with a clear destination in mind. Marik ran his fingers through Bakura’s hair to encourage him there faster, not that it did much good. Bakura spent what felt like an eternity or two laying kisses all along his upper thighs and teasingly close to the base of his straining cock. Marik could feel his hot breath along his length, and once, just briefly, the whisper of a finger caressing along his balls.

He ground his teeth in frustration. “Would you get ON with i-” He cut himself off with a yelp as Bakura slurped his cock right down to the base and gave a single sharp suck, before popping his mouth right back off and gazing up at Marik with a wicked grin plastered across his face.

Bakura wound his fingers around the base of Marik’s cock and playfully swayed it back and forth in front of his mouth, just close enough that Marik could feel the puffs of hot breath on the skin. “You were saying?”

Marik dropped his head back with a frustrated groan. “Ugh, why are you like this?”

“I enjoy watching my adversaries squirm.”

“’Adversaries’, huh?”

Bakura nodded. “Yes. And I won the kissing contest this time, so hush.”

Marik rolled his eyes and drummed his fingers along his own leg. “So, do you have kissing contests with all your adversaries, or – _ooh, yes that._ ” Bakura has decided to cut the conversation off by putting his mouth back where it should have been in the first place. Marik wound his fingers back into his boyfriend’s ashy hair and squirmed into the blankets as Bakura’s tongue did absolutely sinful things. Bakura’s mouth was good for a lot of things, but this was definitely one of his favourites. He let himself float away in bliss at the steady rhythm of Bakura’s ministrations.

His breath was coming out in sharp gasps and he could feel himself getting close when Bakura suddenly pulled away. Marik let out a frustrated groan and gave his hair an insistent tug, but Bakura just pecked a kiss to his tip to get his attention before speaking. “If I finish you off now, will you still be able to fuck me in a bit?” Marik just let out an annoyed grumble, so he continued without waiting for a real answer. “Actually, you know what, let’s put that frustration to good use.”

Marik let out a startled yelp when Bakura suddenly shuffled forward to scoop him up around the waist and flip them over. Just because he knew Bakura _could_ do it didn’t mean he’d been expecting it. He braced his hands on Bakura’s solid shoulders as the thief cheerfully settled his legs on either side of Marik’s hips.

Bakura licked his lips. “There we go. Now, let’s put _this-…”_ , he reached down and ran a single finger up the length of Marik’s cock, “… to good use.”

Marik shook his head. “You’re insufferable.”

“Whatever, you love it.”

Marik rolled his eyes, and fumbled around for the lube. He leaned down to kiss Bakura deeply as he made short work of prepping him. He slicked himself up and pressed forward without any more delay.

He paused once he was surrounded by Bakura’s familiar warmth, and rested his forehead on Bakura’s shoulder to breathe for a moment. He ran his fingers gently along Bakura’s sides and up through his shaggy hair, feeling the textures under his fingertips and trying not to giggle euphorically at the simple fact that he could actually do this. And that he would get to keep doing this, for as long as he possibly could. He nuzzled into the crook of Bakura’s neck with a happy hum and pressed tiny kisses there as he traced his fingers along the back of his neck, looking for any tiny scars he may have somehow missed in his previous explorations. 

It didn’t take long for Bakura to start squirming impatiently. Marik blinked back to reality when he felt fingers running through his hair. Bakura pressed a kiss to Marik’s forehead and growled into his hair. “Marik, you’re daydreaming again. I know I’m just that good, but you’re balls deep here so you’ve got a job to do. Get the hell back to reality and _fuck_ me already. Don’t make me replace you with a vibrator.”

Marik chuckled into Bakura’s neck. “You wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I would.”

Marik scoffed and tipped his head upward to nibble at that one spot behind Bakura’s ear that always got the most delicious reactions. He was not disappointed. When Bakura opened his mouth to keep snarking at him, his voice was noticeably shaky.

“Good argument. You know what would make a better one…?”

Marik took pity on his poor, frustrated love and rolled his hips. Bakura nodded with a low grunt. “Yes, that. Better.” He pressed a hard kiss to the top of Marik’s head before flopping backwards on the pillows with a satisfied hum.

Marik tried to stay cuddled up, pressing kisses to Bakura’s neck and chest as he rolled his hips in smooth circles. But Bakura really did give fantastic blowjobs, and it wasn’t long before he was leaning back for better leverage to thrust in earnest. Bakura was very vocal in his appreciation and reached forward to grip his shoulders, which just spurred him on further. Fuck it, there’d be time for long, lingering lovemaking some other time.

Marik was letting out tiny moans with each thrust, and tried to fumble a hand down to stroke Bakura closer to completion too. Bakura growled at him, and yanked the hand to his hip as he bucked upwards. Marik certainly knew how to take that hint, and grabbed Bakura by the hips to help angle him up into his increasingly desperate thrusts. He barely noticed Bakura snake a hand down to stroke himself.

After that, Marik didn’t last long before he tensed up and spilled himself into Bakura. He pulled a hand away to join Bakura’s stroking, and Bakura followed soon after. Marik slumped forward, and they wound their arms around one another with little thought to the mess. It took a while for their heart rates to slow, and Marik let himself melt back into Bakura’s warmth as he relaxed. He pecked a gentle kiss to Bakura’s lips, and then one along his scarred cheek for good measure. Bakura huffed out a laugh and took Marik’s hand to plant a kiss to his wrist in return, before linking their fingers and laying their hands across his chest.

Marik scooted back down to rest his cheek on Bakura’s chest next to their joined hands. He sighed as they held each other close and enjoyed the silence. The world outside was waiting, and he supposed have to convince himself to get some work done at some point today, but for now, there was nothing more important than just being together, and he’d cherish every second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! :D Thanks so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think, so please consider leaving a review! <3 
> 
> [ Tumblr ](https://mainstream-deviant.tumblr.com/)


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